


Sign to Fly

by Tanngerine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, There's DaiSuga now if u squint, is actually dead on the floor from season 2 hold me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4984426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanngerine/pseuds/Tanngerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Hinata is deaf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Note

Hinata rushed through the household, slightly panicking that he’d be late. He fell flat on his face more than usual as he zipped back and forth up the stairs, too excited to be efficient in his actions. Natsu greeted him at the top of the stairway his billionth time going down, and he stopped to ruffle her hair in response to her sleepy, “Good morning, big brother!” 

He met his mother in the kitchen on the way out, who finished packing his lunch just in time. “Have fun today, dear!” she told him, handing him his backpack, which she took after a brief hug. In the corner of his eye, his best friend caught his attention by waving, and he saw him say, “Hurry up, Shouyou! We’re gonna be late!”

_“I’m coming!”_ he motioned with his hands, pulling on his favorite white sweater and another jacket over it, aware of the chilly early-spring winds. He shot one last grin at his mother before racing out the door, jumping on his bike and grabbing his baseball bat and mitt. Izumi already had a significant head start on him, as he saw the boy disappear over the hill and riding towards the town. Not wanting to be shown up by his friend, he immediately went after him, pedaling at fast as he could, hand awkwardly grasping the handlebar around the baseball bat. 

‘Wait a little,’ he wanted to shout, but had to settle for glaring holes at the guy’s back, in hopes that he would turn around so he could sign him to slow down a little. They followed each other into town, and Hinata finally caught up to him at a stop light. 

“I’m really really excited for this!” Izumi cheered over Hinata’s labored breathing. “You’ll definitely love the baseball team! And I’m sure they’ll like you back—even if you’re inexperienced you’re really fast and pick up quickly, and I bet—“ Hinata missed the rest of what he was saying, as he immediately shot forward on his bike, seeing the light turn green. He was ahead now!

Driving past the shops, he took in the lively sights—his town was small, but busy, especially in the morning. He nodded in response to various hellos and good mornings, not keeping his eye off the road in front of him for more than a second.

However, rolling past an electronics store, something on the multiple TV screens in the shops display made him screech to a halt. It appeared to be a volleyball match, and an important one too. He found himself in awe of the massive gym and the sheer number of spectators, feeling excitement jolt through his body, watching the game play out. He didn’t know much about volleyball, but even he could tell an amazing game was taking place.

Suddenly, a blast of wind gusted him in the face, and he was tempted to close his eyes, but a figure on the screen—a short teenager bearing the number 10 on his back—suddenly leaped, and he found himself entranced and wide-eyed. In his silent world, he witnessed who he would later learn was nicknamed the ‘Small Giant,’ jump higher than he had ever seen anyone go in his life. Behind him, he felt his other friend, Kouji, zip by, and was certain the boy had yelled something at him, but couldn’t take his eyes off the screen to see. 

He shook his head, his grip around the baseball bat tightening; no, this person wasn’t just jumping...

He was flying.

...

For the millionth time that day, he excitedly tugged at Izumi’s shirt to tell him something completely stupid and irrelevant, overwhelmed by where he finally was and all the players that filed by after him.

“Calm down, Shouyou, they’re just people like us,” Izumi told him, though Hinata could tell he was nervous. A great many of the teams were intimidating and looked like they knew what they were doing, but Hinata (and was probably the only one) didn’t care. His first game! After three years!

He peered around, trying to take in his surroundings, when Izumi yanked him back. Surprised and somewhat miffed by the sudden action, he lifted his hands to ask him what the big deal was, when he found out himself why his friend wanted him close. 

A pack of tall, almost menacing players made their way down the hallway, and everyone instinctively moved aside to let them pass. Hinata wasn’t familiar with any of the teams, but he could tell straightaway that this one was formidable. He trembled a bit as they came closer, looming over their own, small team. Clearly, this team had put in countless hours of effort and practice, and expected no less result than a win. He heard mutters of, “Kitagawa Daiichi,” and shrank even further. These guys were their opponent?

Accidentally, he made eye contact with one of them, a tall, dark haired boy with eyes like the night, and shivers racked his spine. It was brief, as the boy didn’t seem to have any interest in him, and before long the team was out of sight, though, certainly, not out of mind. 

“...I wanna go home,” he saw one of the first years mumble, and though he was rather jarred himself, he was quick to pat him on the back and grant him a reassuring smile. 

_“We can do it! My jumping power will let us plow right through them!”_ he signed, which was quickly relayed to everyone else by Izumi. It was like he said; they were only people. In response, the first year gave him an off-kilter smile, but it was better than nothing. They entered the gym, and all sense of fear was washed away, overtaken once more by excitement. 

_“We’re here! We’re finally here!”_ his hands signed frantically to no one in particular, though he saw his fellow third-years give smile. They knew better than anyone how hard Shouyou worked to make this day happen—though they were frightened out of their wits (heck, Izumi played everything but volleyball, and Kouji was just a track fanatic) they were happy that he managed to pull together a team, even if it was last minute and certainly not likely to get very far. 

The whole team stopped when their captain suddenly rushed in front of them, and gave a low bow. 

“Thank you for coming,” Izumi translated for the others, who were stunned into silence. He tapped him on the shoulder to get him to look up. Seeing him almost in tears, his shoulders tensed, and beside him Kouji said quickly, “You don’t have to do that here! It’s embarrassing!”

Everyone laughed and exchanged grins, and they searched for a spot to get started. Behind his back, Izumi crossed his fingers, praying their first opponent wouldn’t be as formidable as they appeared. There was no way they could win the league—they were far too inexperienced, and their passion for volleyball was weak compared to Shouyou’s—but he wanted them to win at least some games, at least one, since it was their last year. If they lost now, there would be no second chances, and he knew his friend wanted to play as much as possible. 

They got in a small warm-up (which led to volleyballs flying everywhere—their inability to keep the ball off the ground very long was apparent, even more so amongst the more professional teams) before the time to start drew nearer. Izumi tapped his orange-headed friend on the shoulder, thinking that they should group together to discuss their game plan a little, but when Hinata looked up at him, he saw that the boy was deathly pale. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he signed quickly, before dashing out of the gym leaving his friend with his hand frozen in midair, with a drop of sweat rolling down his face.

... 

As he dried off in the bathroom, he slowly looked up to see himself in the mirror, realizing that he was, indeed, shaking. But not out of fear. A smile slowly made its way to his lips, and clasped his shoulder in an attempt to calm himself down.

 _‘We’ll beat them or die trying,’_ he thought, remembering the tall youth he made eye contact with earlier. 

_‘I wonder if he’s a starter...’_ He exited the bathroom, stopping to watch some boys yammering at the water fountain. 

“Yukigaoka Junior High? I’ve literally never even heard of them before.”

“Me neither! They’re the team we passed by earlier, y’know, the little ones?”

“Seriously? I thought they were elementary schoolers!” 

One of them snickered. “There’s no way we’d lose to them.” The person was laughing, and he felt anger light up inside him. He slapped the wall next to them to get their attention, and they turned to look at him in surprise, before breaking out in laughter. 

“Look at him! He’s the captain!” one of them wheezed. “Hey, kid, are you a first year?”

Glaring, he held up three fingers, then began signing rapidly. _“You haven’t even played us yet—how can you say you’ll win?!”_

“What’s the matter, can’t speak?” another jeered. “Hey, do you guys understand sign language at all?”

“The only thing I got from that was that he was a third year.”

He clenched his teeth, and looked them straight in the eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he moved his hands in the air and stated:

_“We’ll beat you to the ground.”_

This, they seemed to understand. One of them got off the bench and stepped toward him, making him lurch back a little. All his bravado from earlier seemed to dissipate—he was no good in fights.

“Hey, second years!”

Hinata didn’t hear the command, but saw the three in front of him jump in surprise and look to the left, and he followed in suit. Striding towards them was the player he saw earlier, and his eyes widened as, for a split second, a king’s cloak seemed to fly around his shoulders. When he blinked, it disappeared, but the menacing aura didn’t.

‘King of the Court.’ He heard the whispers flying around as people spoke of Kitagawa Daiichi. Hinata didn’t know the face of this king, but he was willing to bet anything that it was this guy, right here. His eyes were as cold as steel, and his mouth was set in what seemed to be a permanent frown. 

“What’s taking you guys so long? The match is about to start,” he said, stopping in front of them. 

“S-sorry Kageyama,” his teammate responded, hustling to gather all the drinks. “We’ll be right there!” The king nodded, turning around to head back.

“It’s not like they’ll even drink these,” one whispered. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

Suddenly, Kageyama turned and scowled darkly at them. “Do you think looking down on your opponents will get you a place on the court?” he said in a low voice. It was difficult to see what he was saying from the way his face was turned, but Hinata just barely managed to get the gist of his words. “Don’t ride on the tails of your school’s name.”

“R-right! Sorry!” the squeaked in unison, before fleeing down the hallway. 

Though shaking a bit himself, he signed, _“...I would have said that myself.”_

“You’re deaf,” Kageyama realized, giving him another onceover before heading back to the gym. “Sorry. I don’t understand sign language.”

He’d judged him, and expected to win. Hinata desperately wanted to protest against this, but being unable to communicate with him, he had no method of doing so, and could only stand and watch him leave. His fists clenched, and he glared at his opponent’s back. It frustrated him beyond compare.

“Hey, look out!” someone at the other end of the hall shouted. A volleyball came flying towards Kageyama, who quickly put his hand up to catch it.

A flash of orange blocked his vision, before he heard a heavy ‘thud’ as Hinata hit the ground. Shocked, he eyed the volleyball, which was now cradled in the shorter boy’s hands. He blinked at the wrong time so he didn’t see much, but him being here meant he crossed a distance of about ten meters away in a matter of seconds, and was able to jump high enough to catch the oncoming projectile. 

Yukigaoka’s captain caught his gaze steadily, before tossing the ball back, the other person being equally surprised. For the next few moments they studied each other, neither looking away.

 _‘We’ll win,’_ he seemed to be thinking.

Kageyama brushed his shoulder as he passed him, and said, “Only the strong stand on the court.” Hinata was left standing in place, fear washed clean out of him, replaced by a growing desire to prove the king wrong.

“Hinata! That was terrifying!” Izumi said frantically, emerging from his hiding spot around the corner, and checked his friend for any external injuries. “Weren’t you just going to the bathroom? Why did this even happen?”

In response, Hinata only took his friend by the arm, and sprinted back to the gym.

...

22-7.

The first set resulted in Kitagawa’s win, and they didn’t seem to be faring much better in the second. Only three points away from losing, the majority of Hinata’s team had resigned to their fates, just running through the motions of the game. 

One of Kitagawa Daichi’s players spiked the ball hard into the ground, and it bounced right off a second year’s arms out of the court. The scorekeeper adjusted the number accordingly, shaking his head in pity. 

“Man, that redhead sure can jump. It’s a shame he doesn’t have a proper setter,” he muttered to the person in charge of Yukigaoka’s score.

“Yeah, I would have loved to see him play on a more experienced team!” It was obvious enough that this one had been assembled at the last minute, so he wasn’t sure what they were aiming for in the beginning. At this point in the game, however, it was clear that their captain had come with the full intention of winning. 

But their spirit was dwindling. It was understandable, and unfortunate that they got such a powerhouse for their first match.

Hinata ran to the first year, patting him on the back in reassurance. Only Izumi understood sign language, but the captain’s intentions were plain. The boy nodded in response, feeling just slightly more motivated than before, and surprised by his senior’s resolve. They were so close to losing, yet he hadn’t yet given up. 

Before the game continued Hinata turned towards his team, and gave everyone a thumbs up. _“It’s not over yet!”_

The game resumed, and dread filled their stomachs as they realized Kageyama was serving. Of all the players in Kitagawa, only he still seemed to be taking them seriously, which was admirable in his part, but seriously unfortunate for them. 

Hinata bent his knees, locking his eyes on the ball. _‘Bring it on!’_

Kageyama tossed the ball up and slapped it across the court, the ball zipping towards the far end, away from Hinata. A first year chased after it, but slowed down, realizing that it was about to go out of bounds. 

The scorekeeper moved to change the sign again, when suddenly, an ominous clattering sound of chairs caught his attention.

“Senpai?! Senpai?! Are you okay?!” the player asked Hinata, whose back was against the wall, legs in the air. Numerous chairs were on its side around him, a greater number displaced. The ball bounced on the ground a few times before rolling away. 

Hinata nodded, or tried to while upside down. Taking the hand extended to him, he got up and brushed his hair off, and his junior looked at him concerned.“Captain, why are you trying so hard...?” he questioned.

 _“Why?”_ He looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shivers raced down his spine, as he signed like he did before: _“The game’s not over yet.”_

The two went back into play, the others fussing over Hinata until he grinned at them, assuring them he was alright. 

“Look at that idiot, trying so hard. What can they hope to do now?” One of the players in Daiichi asked, and flinched as Kageyama turned to glare at him. 

“You could learn a thing or two from him, you know,” he snapped. “What the fuck was that before? If you tried hard enough, you could have gotten that ball.”

“...Sorry,” he muttered, going back to his place on the court. “Not like it would have mattered even if I did get it.”

The next serve was played, and Yukigaoka was able to rally it long enough for a free ball. 

“Izumi!” one of the younger players shouted. Nodding, the said player rushed to get under the ball, but wasn’t there in time. The set was sloppy, going way off target and away from Hinata.

 _‘Crap...’_ he thought. He closed his eyes tightly—this was the match point. “Sorry, Hinata!”

His eyes widened as Hinata whistled by him, dashing to the other end of the court. With an incredible display of agility, he decelerated almost instantly, taking to the air and closing the distance between himself and the ball. Kageyama jumped up, but was a second too late. A hard slap echoed through the gym, as Hinata spiked it to the opposing side. 

The gym was silent for a moment, before the whistle blew. It was out. 

The whistle blew again, long and shrill. Members of Kitagawa Daiichi high-fived each other for a good game, while the opposite team looked dejectedly at the ground. Hinata stood in place by the net, breathing heavily and not saying a word.

Footsteps came up beside him, and he looked to see Kageyama on the other side of the net, looking at him with anger. 

“You... what have you been doing for the past three years?!” he said in an accusing tone.

His heart stopped, and any words he had to say were shoved back down his throat. Behind him, Kouji retorted something furiously, but Izumi pushed him back before he could advance further. Kageyama stalked off, and the two approached their friend. 

“Hey, Shouyou,” Izumi said gently. “It’s time to line up.”

Wordlessly, he followed them to the middle of the gym, where both teams faced each other. 

“Thank you for the game!”

Hinata’s middle school volleyball career: sets won, zero. Total playing time: 31 minutes. His first, last, and only match, and the last time he could stand on that court under the name of Yukigaoka Junior High. 

They gathered their things, and exited the building. A few people gave them words of praise on the way out, but for the most part, they looked at them as though it were only natural that they lost. 

“It couldn’t be helped man, we’re all beginners,” Kouji reasoned. “We didn’t even have a coach.” The three were lagging behind the rest, who were already heading towards the bus.

“Ah, is that...” someone pointed to the team exiting from a nearby door, and saw it was Kitagawa Daiichi.

 _‘Only the strong stand on the court,’_ he repeated to himself. _“You guys go on ahead—I’ll be there in a sec,”_ he signed. 

Izumi looked at him, bearing a worried expression. “Alright. Be careful, okay?” He relayed Hinata’s words to Kouji, who nodded, and they both left.

Kageyama was behind the others, and from the top of the stairs, Hinata tried stamping his foot to get the taller boy’s attention. However, the passing winds carried the sound away, and Hinata looked ahead blankly. He reached into his bag, pulled out a volleyball, and took a step back. 

_Whack!_ The ball hit Kageyama square in the back of the head, who yelled in surprised and whipped around furiously. “What the hell is your—“ he started, then said, “Oh, it’s you.”

He looked in confusion as Hinata began signing a bunch of words. “I already told you, I don’t understand sign language.”

Hinata glared at him, then began bounding down the stairs. He grasped Kageyama’s hand, who began protesting, but then watched in silent curiosity as the boy scribbled something on his hand.

He turned his palm upside down, and read, ‘The one left standing on the court will be me!’

“Your handwriting is shit,” he muttered, before looking at Hinata, who was glaring at him for his comment. “You can understand what I’m saying, right?” When he nodded, Kageyama said, “If you want to beat me, try growing stronger.”

_‘Of course.’_

“Hey, Kageyama! We’re leaving!” Kindaichi shouted behind him.

He glanced towards the direction of the voice, then back at Hinata, tossing his ball back to him. “It’s not like I’ll be waiting for you, either. May we meet at the top.” Ducking his head, he turned around to follow his teammates. 

Kindaichi watched Kageyama jog toward them, and his eyes shifted to the black marks on his hand. “The fuck is that?”

Kageyama looked down at his hand in response, and closed it, smudging the letters. He shoved his fists into his pockets.

“An oath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time publishing an HQ fic ^////^ I'll do my best to keep this story going--thank you for your interest! Please let me know how you feel about this story, I appreciate any sort of feedback~ I hope to see you again soon..!!


	2. No Matter the Cost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here with (a much longer I'm so sorry--) chapter 2, mostly from Kageyama's POV! Thank you so so much for everyone's overwhelming support on this fic, your encouragement means the world to me and gives a huge boost ;///; Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

_“Your tosses are ridiculous.”_

Behind him, the sound of the ball hitting the floor resonated throughout the court, drowning out the clamor of the audience. 

_“We’ve had enough.”_

He turned, and his eyes widened as a huge, gaping hole opened up in the middle of the court. He stood on one side, and his teammates on the other, without a shred of guilt or remorse on their faces. His foot shifted, his heart wanting to cross the distance between them, but the gap only grew wider and wider, until he was clearly beyond the point of no return. 

He couldn’t breathe. His mind seemed to blank out, and their words echoed in his head like a metronome, all the hateful looks and bitter relationships condensed into a single word that he would hate for the rest of his life. Red crossed his vision as something heavy settled on his shoulders, the weight he tried to bear all on his own and was now left to carry in solitude. A string tightened around his throat, and through hazy eyes, he searched for his only solace. 

Volleyball. Surely, the thing he had been fighting for this whole time could breathe life back into him. As long as he could keep playing—

 _“Kageyama,”_ his coach had commanded him. _“Go to the bench.”_

In the darkness, multitudes of spiteful, glaring eyes trained their gaze on him.

_“Goodbye, King.”_

Gasping, he shot up from his bed, shoulders heaving. He bunched up his shirt collar, trying to bring his heart rate back to normal. As he did so, he became aware of the sweat that clung to him, and pondered taking a shower, considered physically drowning out the whispers that plagued him if only for a few, brief minutes.

He turned around, and moonlight sat uncomfortable in his eye, but he didn’t turn away. The glowing object in the sky had been there for him longer than anything else had.

 _Stupid._ Kageyama pulled the covers back over his head, exhaustion sweeping through his limbs. Realizing that his first day of school began in a matter of hours, the need for a dreamless sleep to separate his nightmare from a potentially living hell grew impossibly strong.

_As if that would make them disappear._

...

He never really got along with anyone in school.

“He’s brooding, bad-tempered, and impossible to reason with!” he had heard Kindaichi say about him to one of his classmates.

(He didn’t stick around long enough to hear his name, but there could be no mistake that it was him. Clearly, the player had a fond love for Kageyama.)

The fact didn’t change with his first day of Karasuno. It’s not as though he did it on purpose, but apparently, his normal face looked as though he were trying to send unfortunate souls to the other side. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he kept his head low, maneuvering his way around the shouting third-years trying to advertise their clubs. 

Students raced back and forth, narrowly avoiding collisions with one another, but the atmosphere was friendly nonetheless. He wasn’t used to friendly. 

“Hey, you’re pretty tall! Wanna join the—“ the senior stopped in his tracks with a squeak as Kageyama looked up to give him his response, fleeing down the hallway. 

He sidestepped the flyer that blared the words ‘basketball,’ already knowing what he wished to do in his high school career. Nothing else mattered.

Ahead of him, the gym doors were slightly ajar, and he gave it a light push and poked his head in. “Pardon me...” he started, but no one was there. That was good—he liked being early. 

Not bothering to look for locker rooms (he doubted he could enter by himself anyhow) he changed into his gym uniform, being careful to lace his shoes properly. It had happened before—didn’t tie them twice, fell flat on his face while going for the ball. Not something he wanted to reenact. 

His eyes searched the room, giving a relieved sigh when he spotted a cart of volleyballs in the back corner. He pulled them to a place more accessible, and began hitting them across the court. Each went over smoothly, and he let out a breath of satisfaction. Good, he was on a roll. 

Warming up for serves, he backed up a bit and tossed the ball up, eyes trained on the ball. He lost focus, however, when he heard a solid thud echo from the entrance of the gym, and he glanced in the general direction of the noise. 

_“Seriously? I thought they were middle schoolers!”_

_“They don’t stand a chance.”_

_“Don’t ride the tails of your school’s name.”_

_“We’ll beat you to the ground!”_

_“Only the strong stand on the court.”_

_“The one left standing on the court will be me!!”_

The ball bounced straight off his head, rolling a few meters before coming to a stop. The person at the doorway pointed at him, clearly alarmed by his presence. 

_“Why are you here?!”_ he seemed to ask. Feeling a bit numb, he only replied nonchalantly, “I’m attending here.”

He prepared himself for another onslaught of hand signs, but lurched back when the boy began digging through his bag, preparing to defend himself from a volleyball. Lord forbid he admitted it, but that had actually hurt. However, he pulled out a pad of paper instead, and jogged towards him, wearing an accusing frown. 

_“How am I supposed to beat you if we’re in the same school?!”_ it read. 

“Hell if I should know,” he snorted. “Uh...” he tilted his head in confusion. “Can’t remember your name.”

Pouting, he flipped the paper. _“Hinata Shouyou! Don’t forget it!!”_ He turned it again. _“Kageyama!”_

“Ah,” he responded mildly. 

Hinata seemed to relax a little, then tried to explain himself further. _“You probably don’t remember me, but I played against you in middle school.”_

“No, no, I definitely remember.” He remembered a flash of orange streaking his vision. He remembered darkness as he flew across the sky and blocked his vision, and the burn on his fingertips as the ball whistled by him. He remembered anger, so much anger from seeing this person with overwhelming talent stuck on a team that couldn’t have hoped to keep up with Hinata if they tried. He remembered the ink that streaked his hand, and stayed there for weeks, because the dumbass had used a permanent marker.

And he felt this anger again. Looking at Hinata, he could tell that he improved, but not nearly enough.

_"I practiced with a ton of people over the past year—I'm better than before."_

“You got better...?” He slowly bent over and picked up another ball, holding it out to the other boy. A small smile tugged the corner of his lips, as he locked gazes with Hinata. “So did I.” 

Interrupting them, the sound of footsteps filled the room, and he turned to see three males stroll into the gym, all sporting the same jacket that Kageyama recognized to be the volleyball team’s uniform. 

“Oh!” One of them pointed, elbowing his dark-haired peer beside him. “Hey, Daichi, ain’t that the guy from—“

“Kitagawa Daiichi.” His mouth turned at the corners, as he held out his hand. “I thought I recognized your name. Welcome to Karasuno; I’m Daichi Sawamura, captain of the school’s volleyball team.” The last part didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kageyama—he seemed to be the type. 

“This is the vice-captain, Sugawara Koushi, and our wing spiker, Tanaka Ryunosuke.” He gestured to each of them in turn, who respectively gave a polite wave and strangely menacing (?) look in response. 

“We’re glad to have you here!” the one called Suga said warmly. “I’m the team’s setter—your ability is admirable.”

“Can’t get along with his teammates for shit, though,” Tanaka said cheerfully, to which Daichi responded with a whack in the head. 

He blinked, then attentively reached out and shook it. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.” If there were anything good about being infamous, it was not having to bother with introductions. In the corner of his eye, he saw Hinata jumping up and down, trying to get their senpais’ attention. He only succeeded, however, after giving an unusually loud cough, and everyone’s gaze turned downward. 

“It’s that flying shrimp!” the wing spiker exclaimed. Seeing Hinata’s offended expression, Suga quickly said, “We all saw your game with Kageyama’s team—your jumps are incredible!”

That seemed to buy him. He began looking around the room, face flushed, and gave a quick bow in greeting.

“You must be...” the captain flipped through the papers. “Hinata Shouyou? It’s good to have you here.” He patted him on the shoulder, to which he nodded excitedly. 

_“I want to be this school’s ace!”_ he wrote, and Tanaka howled in laughter. 

“Pretty bold, saying that right from the get-go!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Isn’t it better to have high goals?” 

“And hey, why are you writing everything? Cat got your tongue?” Tanaka looked at him curiously, and Hinata shook his head, pointing at his ears then holding his arms up in an ‘x’. 

“That’s why I told you to read the applications first, fool. He said he’s deaf right here.” At Daichi’s remark Tanaka’s gaze shifted somewhere to the left. 

“It’s amazing that you’re still able to play volleyball with that kind of disability, I’m sure most people wouldn’t bother,” Suga said thoughtfully. “It’ll be our first time working with someone like you so we’ll have to ask for your patience, but I’m positive it’ll be just fine.”

Kageyama stood behind the group, watching them chatter in cold silence. He cast a vehement leer towards Hinata, who noticed and jumped in surprise. Him? Become ace? As if. “Shouldn’t you get better before deciding to be something like an ace?” he questioned, eyes narrowed. If this was the best he could do, the guy couldn’t accomplish his goal in a million years. “You’ll waste another three years if you’re not careful.”

Hinata’s eyes widened at his remark, and he looked at him crossly. _“I played my very best. Even if I lost—”_ He watched as his hands curled into fists around the notepad, fingers trembling, and angrily wrote, _“Don’t you **dare** tell me those three years were a waste!”_ Defiantly, Hinata glared at him. _“And I’m telling you, I have! I’ll prove it right now! Play against me!”_

“How, dumbass? Volleyball’s not the kind of thing you can play one on one,” he retorted. 

“Hey, guys, no fighting alright?” he vaguely heard Daichi say, in attempts to calm them down, but both he and Hinata were beyond reason at this point. 

“Guess they’re not friends, huh?” Tanaka commented, scratching his head. 

_“Passing?”_ he suggested.

“You can’t lose at that kind of thing.”

_“Blocks?”_

“Have you looked in the mirror recently? You are _not_ going to block me.”

Hinata made face at the last one, then picked up a ball and motioned with his arm. _“Then serve—I’ll send back every one!”_

Kageyama had to choke back down a laugh; in the year prior, he hadn’t managed to hit a single serve of his. Save for the one he had caught with his face. 

Daichi heaved a sigh. “I know you guys have some differences, but the fact is that now you’re teammates. For the sake of everyone else you have to learn to get along—”

Hinata sprinted to the opposing side of the court, bending his knees. Kageyama picked up one of the nearby volleyballs, holding it close to his face and taking a deep breath. Even if the midget did get better, there was no way he’d make it easy for him. In the background, he heard Tanaka shouting something, but his mind was in full-on volleyball mode now—nothing was going to reach him; he wouldn’t let it. Carefully, he tossed the ball in the air, and the familiar feeling of time slowing down enveloped him. He immersed himself in it; it was the best feeling in the world, where there was only him, the ball, and nothing in between. Calculating the best time to strike, he raced forward, bringing his hand flat onto the surface of the ball. He watched as it flew straight towards Hinata, who wisely ducked to the side, ball narrowly missing his face. He then reached over and picked up another, frowning irritably. 

“Care to explain, asshat, how exactly that’s any different from before?” he snapped. 

“Amazing, he got better,” Suga commented, then shook his head quickly—now wasn’t the time. He nervously glanced over to the vice principal, who was giving Daichi a hard time. 

Without skipping a beat, Hinata got back into position, unfazed by his earlier display. 

_“One more.”_

He gave him a long look, before deciding to comply. There’s plenty more where that came from. 

He directed the next serve ridiculously far away, as opposed to straight at him like before. He seemed more prepared, however, flying straight down to the other end of the court the only way he knew how. He found himself in awe of his reflexes—he was so _fast_ —but was crudely brought down to reality when the serve helplessly bounced off Hinata’s arms and ricocheted off his face. He felt a strong urge to throw Hinata through the roof—yes, his speed was ideal, but he had never seen such a clumsy shit bastard in his _life_. 

The ball wasn’t done moving, however. He watched in surprise as it smacked a middle-aged man on the cheek (‘When did he get there?’ he wondered.) and—quite literally—knocked his hair off. 

The room fell silent as the dark mass settled on Daichi’s head, crooked in all its glory. A little ways off, Tanaka was struggling fiercely not to laugh, but failing in massive proportions. 

“Ah, it was fake?” he asked. Hinata, who had somehow found his way next to him, told him in his uber-shitty handwriting, _“Of course Bakageyama! Everyone at the ceremony had already noticed.”_ Kageyama's eyes blanked at the insult, before he proceeded to grabbing Hinata by the head.

“Guys! Stop it!” Suga hissed frantically, inwardly praying to every deity alive for the safety of their club. 

“Sawamura... may I have a word with you...?” the vice principal toned, not a trace of a question in his voice. Stiffly, the captain followed him out the door, wig and all. 

He and Hinata stood glaring at each other, while Suga was trying to quiet down Tanaka, who at this point had laughed himself to tears. Before long Daichi returned, expression unreadable.

A vein popped on his forehead as Hinata pointed at him. _“His fault.”_

Kageyama whirled on him. “Like hell it was! I clearly served it in a completely different direction from where he was standing—it was your useless receive that sent it the other way! You’re hopeless! A complete disappointment! Dumbass!” Hinata was clearly wounded by every word, but he regretted nothing—the guy had riled him up for no reason whatsoever.

Before they could bicker further, the captain said with a dark tone, “Guys.”

They snapped to attention, as he informed them of the verdict. “He’s not pinning any blame on anyone, and I was able to apologize on behalf on everyone here. In exchange...” He gave everyone a hard stare. “We saw nothing.”

Everyone nodded.

The captain relaxed his shoulders a bit, and then began rubbing at the back of his neck, as if he were exhausted by the day’s events and trying to wind down. After a sigh, he turned to him, and he unconsciously straightened his back in response.

“You’re both here to win, right?” he asked them.

He replied, “Of course!” while beside him, Hinata nodded vigorously in response. 

“This school used to be ranked one of the highest in the prefecture—in fact, we even went to the nationals once,” Daichi began explaining. “But since then, we’ve gotten steadily worse. Right now, we’re just average amongst the other schools in the city, neither particularly high nor low. We’ve been called things like ‘Fallen Champions,’ or ‘Flightless Crows.’”

“Such a tacky and rude name,” Tanaka complained. “Totally wish they’d cut it out already, it’s not cool.”

Suga flashed the second year a grand smile, and Kageyama suddenly began to fear for his life. “Let’s shut them up this year then, shall we?”

Daichi sent a look at the light-haired setter, and it seemed a thousand words passed between them in a single second before Sugawara smiled sheepishly. He coughed, before continuing, “In other words, we’re going there again—to the nationals.”

Not quite impressed, Kageyama matched his gaze. “So are a bunch of other teams.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Daichi stated. “We’re completely serious. It would be unfair to group us with them. However...”

The room’s temperature suddenly dropped to negative twenty degrees, as the captain said slowly, “You two are incredibly problematic. I understand that you played against each other last year, and I’m not asking you to be best friends or anything, but you should be aware now that you’re on the same side and need to work together. No matter how skilled you are—“ Kageyama stiffened. “—Nor how much effort you’re willing to put in—“ Beside him, Hinata blinked owlishly. Before he knew it, a paper was shoved into his face, and he felt himself tumbling down the steps. “—Players who fight and cause trouble for the team aren’t needed!”

He watched in shock as Tanaka and Sugawara peeked around the doors, both bearing strange expressions. Just before the door slammed shut on them, he heard Daichi say with finality, “Until you learn how to work together, you are absolutely not joining this club!” and their view of the gym was completely blocked off. 

Dust settled around him, and the gravity of their situation finally hit him in the face.

Much to his annoyance, Hinata was beside himself with panic, and tugging his sleeve. _“What did he say?? I couldn’t catch a lot of it—“_ The redhead then squatted, situating his head between his knees. No doubt, if he could speak, he would be expressing an onslaught of grievances. Kageyama sat back, silent for a few moments before saying, “He said we had to work together, or he wouldn’t let us join.”

His jaw dropped. _“What does that mean?! How do we show that?!”_

“You don’t know?” he asked, equally confounded. He watched as Hinata began shoving pieces of paper under the door, and he joined him, yelling, “I swear I’ll work with this dumbass—ouch!” he yelped as Hinata elbowed his shin in retaliation. 

Sugawara took one of the slips of paper, reading it as he ran a hand through his hair. Hinata had scrawled out promise after promise to work with Kageyama, followed by a series of crying faces. “Daichi, isn’t this a bit harsh...? Teams develop over time.”

“I don’t plan on refusing them, I just want them to have some time to think,” he reasoned, trying to keep his voice neutral. He certainly wasn’t bitter about the fact that they just handed his ass to the vice principal. Not in the slightest. 

“I promise I’ll work as a team with him...!” they heard Kageyama shout. Daichi opened the door, giving him a hard stare. 

“How do you truly think about that idea?” he questioned, watching in amusement as he averted his eyes in response.

“...Since he’s the way he is now, much rather than working with him, I’d much rather spike, toss, and receive all on my own,” he muttered.

“Good! You’re honest!” he commended. He then tried to console Hinata, who misunderstood him. “Ah, no, I don’t mean he’s right to think that way—he’s not.” He then turned back to Kageyama, and asked sternly, “In a game where the ball can’t touch the ground no matter what, and a single player can’t hold it twice in a row, what do you hope to accomplish by yourself?”

Kageyama could only look down at the ground in response, and he smiled, before closing the door once more. 

What the hell is this “working together” thing, he thought irately. He jumped as a piece of paper was smacked onto his face, and he pulled it off to read, _“That was uncalled for.”_

He crumpled it and whipped it back at him, who blinked as the projectile hit him between the eyes. If only it were a volleyball, he could knock the nuisance out for a few hours.

“I can make the team stronger; that’s all the reason I should need to be able to join!” he declared, feeling a rush of annoyance as Hinata looked at him as if he sprouted three heads. 

_“What do you plan on doing?”_ he asked in writing.

He looked straight ahead at the door as he relayed his idea to the redhead, whose eyes widened. 

_“2 v. 2?! Against our senpais?! What if we lose??”_

“We won’t! I’m here!” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. At his unnerved expression, he added, “Just do your best not to get in my way.”

A pad of paper quickly hit him in the face. 

Being left without a means of communicating, Hinata was left to glare at him, and Kageyama looked at him with a cross look of his own. “You’re a hindrance as you are now—if you don’t like my idea, then how else would you go about it?”

Hinata looked down at the ground, then walked over to reach the fallen book. _“My game with you was the only one I ever played, and the fact that I lost was frustrating. More than anything, I want to beat you.”_

 _‘Cept we’re on the same team now,_ he thought. 

_“But if I don’t practice with everyone, nothing will change...”_ A faraway look was cast in his eyes, lit by the sunlight; he was sure that the boy was dreaming big things, things he couldn’t possibly reach at this point in time but he knows that Hinata would chase so long as he had a shred of opportunity. It was a curiously different look, one that he couldn’t look away from; he never saw on anything like that on his former teammates. 

_“...So I’ll try not to let you hold me back.”_

He gawked, before karate-chopping his nest of hair. “That’s my line!”

...

“Alright... we’ll agree to your game, but a 3 v. 3 instead,” the captain had said. “But what if you lose?”

“Ha! They did say it after all!” Tanaka gloated from behind.

“Don’t feel so much pride in being able to read these two simpletons,” Suga responded.

The two exchanged glances, before Kageyama said, “We’ll take anything!”

He gave them a long look, before saying, “Then... if you lose, so long as us 3rd years are here, Kageyama will never play as the official setter.”

Hinata looked at Daichi questioningly. Was that all? They’d still be able to play. He looked over to Kageyama, recoiling at his rather distressed expression.

“I,” he said, grating his teeth, “am a setter!”

“The setter—or, the ‘control tower,’—makes use of the abilities of his teammates to coordinate attacks. A self-centered setter like you, who tries to do everything on his own, cannot carry a team very far,” he said simply. “It doesn’t matter as long as we win right? That’s what you’re here for, after all.” With that, he closed the door, leaving the two to stand in the dark.

Hinata edged forward, turning his head to look at Kageyama’s face, he was staring daggers into the ground. 

_“Why do you want to be the setter so badly? You’re definitely good enough to be a regular anyway. Besides, spikers are way cooler—”_ The dark-haired youth crumpled up the paper before he finished reading, then grabbed Hinata by the shirt collar and slammed his head into his. 

“As if!” he raged. “Setters lead the team! They touch the ball the most often! Aren’t the leaders the coolest?!” He let him go, ignoring the bewildered expression on his face. “Your beloved spikes wouldn’t happen without tosses from a setter!”

Hinata pursed his lips in thought, nursing the wound on his forehead. _“Maybe because it’s too complicated, but I don’t know? It looks sorta boring to me.”_

He took a deep breath, then pointed at him. “Have you ever seen a live game?” When the other boy shook his head, he explained, “It’s different from TV—the camera is in between the courts so you can see both sides, but normally, you sit behind one of the teams.” Remembering one of the first games he watched—the one that inspired him to become a setter—he mimed a toss with his hands. “If you look at a toss from there, it’s suuuper fast! Right from one side of the court to the other! It’s the setter’s job to deal with the blockers, so the spiker can hit freely. Spikers are cool and all, but the setter is the most difficult and coolest of them all!”

Hinata only gave him an oddly concerned look, then walked over and touched his shoulder.

“Are you making fun of me?!” he yelled, punching him in the forehead.

 _“I get why you want to be setter now,”_ Hinata showed him while pouting, likely not taking kindly to his desired position being pushed under Kageyama’s. _“But either way, don’t we need to practice? That would be kinda hard if we can’t use the gym...”_

“Good point,” he muttered. “We don’t have much time, but we need to improve your shit receives as much as possible.”

He took no notice in the angry orange ball behind him, instead directing his attention to Tanaka at the window, who seemed to be signaling him something.

“Hey, Suga!” Tanaka called loudly. “Practice is at 7 tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, it is...” the silver head replied. “Why are you asking now?”

“N-no reason! Hey, how’s the vice’s wig doing?”

“Tanaka, stop! That’s a taboo topic!”

Kageyama elbowed Hinata in the gut, who missed the whole thing. “Get here at 5 tomorrow. No matter what.”

Clutching his stomach, he looked up at him in wonder, then nodded. They gathered their things and set out, preparing themselves for the morning that was to follow.

...

“Geez, you’re being strangely strict with them Daichi!” Suga exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I kinda agree,” their wing spiker said. “I never imagined you’d be this hard on a bunch of first years. But you have a reason, don’t you?”

Daichi picked up one of the volleyballs, spinning it on his forefinger. “You guys saw Kageyama’s last game last year, didn’t you?”

Suga shuddered, remembering it all too clearly. He couldn’t imagine how Kageyama must have felt, but seeing all his teammates abandon him in the middle of the game like that was nothing short of awful. Not that his teammates were completely at fault... Kageyama’s yelling was quite frightening as well.

“If he’s still using that kind of self-centered play, that means he hasn’t improved. Talented he may be, but as he is he would only hurt the team. It seems he’s settled down just a bit since then—“

“You call that settling down?” Tanaka snorted.

“—But the main difference now is that someone just as talented is with him now. If the two figure something out, I’m sure...” Daichi looked out the window, trying to imagine where the new duo could take them.

_‘...That something in this school will change.’_

The door was suddenly pushed open, and two teenagers walked in. A tall, glasses-bearing blond smiled at them, accompanied by a short, freckle-faced boy.

“Nice to meeeeet you~!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading!! I appreciate your interest! ;v; I apologize, I know I promised fluff but that will come a little at a time--the beginning in particular will likely be slow OTL I just need to get everyone on the team first //laughs/ As always, I'd appreciate any sort of feedback on the way out <3 Hope to see everyone again soon!


	3. The Calm Before a Storm

They practiced Hinata’s receives until their only source of light was meager cluster of lamp posts, flickering languidly in the spring heat. The sounds of the ball bouncing off their arms (and trees, and rocks, and once the face of an unfortunate passing soul) were echoed by the chirp of crickets and other nocturnal life forms. Both boys were quiet for the most part, save for an occasional bark on Kageyama’s part, with either a crinkle of paper or some silent, insulting gesture in response.

It was the evening of the day after Hinata and Kageyama first met their upperclassmen; as promised by Tanaka, they were given free reign over the gym in the earliest hours of morning, before the volleyball team’s morning practice. The three worked mainly on the redhead’s receives, Sugawara (thankfully, not Daichi) later crashing the party and helping out, allowing Kageyama and Tanaka to practice a few attacks on their own. Little by little, both slowly grew accustomed to Hinata’s deafness, taking care to stay either in his line of vision or out of his way, since he couldn’t hear any warnings, and to make sure he was looking at them before speaking. The disability proved not to be much of a problem at all though, and none of them foresaw any huge complications in the future. They’d just have to work around it.

Neither of the freshmen were satisfied with just practicing in the mornings, however, so they agreed to meet up after school. It was a shame that their third man couldn’t practice with them again during these hours, but they would only have to put up with it until the captain re-accepted their applications.

After Hinata fumbled for the umpteenth time, sending the projectile up into a dense weave of branches, Kageyama snapped. “Pay attention, idiot! I’d die before tossing to you like this!”

He glared unyieldingly as a cross expression settled on Hinata’s features, his arms half raised, before he put his hands down, turning to get the ball down from the tree. Part of the way up, however, the ball fell out on its own, bouncing off Hinata’s head before dropping to the ground.

“Again,” he said tersely, irritation flaring further when the redhead only shook his head in response. It wasn’t _that_ late—and lord only knew how much stamina the much shorter student had. If Kageyama could keep going, so could he.  

Hinata only stood on the spot at the base of the tree, wondering if it was worth it to run to his bag to get another piece of paper to kindly remind Kageyama that it was getting dark, and he couldn’t see well. He’d use his phone, but it ran out of battery ages ago. He wasn’t happy to stop practicing either (to be more specifically, he was more than willing to stop practicing with Kageyama, but his desire to improve hadn’t receded in the slightest) but the fact stands that he wasn’t fond of the dark at all. If he couldn’t hear, and couldn’t see, what was left for him?

In the distance, he could see Kageyama getting riled up about something, probably his lack of response. He strode over to where the taller teen was, determined not to back down from the setter.

Hinata stopped in front of him, thinking a moment. How else could he get Kageyama to understand? Then, an idea came to him, and he reached his hand up towards Kageyama’s face.

His fingers rested briefly on his lips, and he blinked in surprise as the taller teen jolted back. “What is it?” the setter asked him, seemingly unsettled.

Realizing that he probably didn’t appreciate the physical contact, he pointed to his own mouth, then shook his head. _Can’t see what you’re saying_.

The raven-haired player blinked, catching the gist of his meaning. Not bothering to hide his annoyance, Kageyama swept up his jacket, turning to go home. He wouldn’t bother saying goodbye—it’s not as though Hinata would hear it anyway. He held up a hand, asking for the ball.

Hinata picked it up, preparing to throw it to him, when someone behind him just plucked it out of his hands, as easily as one would tug an apple from a tree. In alarm the redhead jumped forward, whirling around.

“Well, if it isn’t the trouble-making freshmen,” a voice crooned, and he looked to see a tall figure, partially lighted by the lamp lights. Someone shorter fell in step behind him, bearing a rather similar smirk. “You’re pretty serious, practicing at such ungodly hours.”

“...You’re tall.” Kageyama said slowly. “What’s your height?”

The other teenager poked his head out from behind the blond’s back, and chirped, “He’s almost 190 cm!” Kageyama only clucked his tongue in response—he was 180.

“Don’t brag about my height,” he had responded, and the person behind him smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry.”

In between them, Hinata waved his hands, jumping as he did so. He wasn’t keeping up with the conversation well, but he could tell that they were all completely ignoring him. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“We’ll be your opponents in the game a few days from now.” His glasses glinted. “I can’t _wait_ to see the King of the Court in action.” Kageyama stiffened at the words, his mood spiraling downwards further by the second. “Ah, but that’s right, you stopped throwing those arrogant tosses a while ago, didn’t you? What a shame—that the last time I saw it, the ball fell right at your feet.”

In three seconds, Kageyama had crossed the distance between them, grabbing him by the collar. 10 cm taller be damned—he’d knock this guy to the ground or die trying.

“Don’t you _dare_ call me that,” he seethed. However, as he spoke, the echo of the ball bouncing off the cold, hardwood floor filled his head, and his vision became the hazy blur of blue and white and black—the colors of the backs of the people who turned on him. Through it all, he saw only a tilted head, eyes gleaming almost gold and an unbearably smug smirk. This damned tree wouldn’t take his words back if a fire were blazing at his feet.

Hinata’s eyes widened as he finally managed to figure out what the tall guy was saying: _King_. Was that Kageyama’s nickname on the court? It sounded pretty cool, actually—

However, looking back on the setter’s dark expression, he could tell that he didn’t find it cool in the slightest. His eyes, which usually shone with clarity and focus, were muddled, as if visions from the inside that Hinata couldn’t see were tormenting the younger boy’s vision. Whatever the name meant to Kageyama, it was agitating him greatly.

Kageyama scowled, and let go, stomping off. Let him keep the volleyball for all he cared.

“You know, King, we’re not so stupid as to anger the upperclassmen. It means nothing for us. The game, that is.” His eyes widened slightly, and he turned to look over his shoulder. “If you want, we could throw it for you.”

His response was immediate. “Whether you go easy or not, I’ll win any—” His words were cut short, however, as something flew through the air, fierce and lightning quick, and just as angry.

Hinata was crouched on the grass in front of the tall newcomer, volleyball clutched in his hand, and Kageyama’s thoughts flew back to his game with the redhead. It was the same as before—Hinata was frighteningly fast, and jumped higher than most athletes could only ever dream of being capable of.

And, poised on the ground, Kageyama was willing to bet he had the same look in his eyes, staring at his future opponent from the ground and screaming without hesitation, ‘We’ll win!’ just like he had looked at him that day.

If the move had surprised the blond at all, he didn’t show it. He only smiled tauntingly at Hinata, and said, “Oh, were you there the whole time? Sorry about that, you’re pretty far below my line of vision, you know.” Hinata bristled, eyes flaring.

Defiantly, the redhead glared, pointing a finger toward Kageyama and then himself. _He has me!_

“The King has _no one_ ,” the teen emphasized, amiably bumping his shoulder against his companion’s. “Let’s go, it’s getting cold.” He nodded in response, and they both made their way past Kageyama, whose eyes were downcast. Before they could leave, however, a small paper airplane wafted through the air, and the taller teen pulled it from the sky.

  _“Who are you?”_ His eyes shifted to see a certain redhead glaring, and he grinned in response.

After scrawling his name and Yamaguchi’s on the paper and tossing it back, he addressed Kageyama. “Tsukishima Kei, first year.”

“Yamaguchi Tadashi, also a first year! I look forward to being in the same club,” he said over their shoulders, as they left them that night for good.

Kageyama stood for a moment, letting his anger settle down. But it slowly dawned on him that it wasn’t anger that was wracking his shoulders or making sweat roll down his palms. It wasn’t anger that was clouding his sight or keeping him locked in place. It was frustration.

Frustration he had for Tsukishima, because everything he had said to him was right.

He had the breath knocked out of him as Hinata roughly rammed him from behind. “ _Now_ what is it?” he snarled, though halfheartedly.

Hinata was holding up his volleyball, which had a note taped to it, and a smile was plastered on his face. _“Don’t worry about them! We’ll still win!”_

He blinked, then scoffed at him and straightened his shoulders. “I never believed otherwise.”

 _“And also-”_ Kageyama glanced at the redhead, giving a yell of surprise when he realized he had his phone.

 _“Please walk me out of the city!!”_ the letters on the screen begged.

“What the—you’re a fucking high schooler, why do you need someone to walk you?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

 _“I’ll be fine once I get to big roads, but on smaller ones like here I’m afraid I won’t see the cars in time,”_ Hinata explained. Kageyama gave a heavy sigh. Communicating with him was so slow going.

“...Fine,” he relented, taking his phone back, and Hinata silently cheered. The clumsy player would be even more useless in a game with a broken leg, he reasoned.

They gathered their things and left the field, walking silently down the road.

...

Kageyama was going to go ballistic way before his match with the other two freshmen, he realized.

 _“Toss to me!”_ read the paper in his notebook. He crumpled it immediately, dunking it into the nearest bin.

Ever since he refused him, Hinata wouldn’t let up about the whole tossing business. He saw the words scrawled everywhere he went—his locker, on his bag, in his books, even on the goddamn vending machine. He had half a mind to collect all the scraps and let it rain on the redhead next time he saw it, just so he could realize how much paper he was using. Though, he noticed after seeing a teacher’s scribbling on the back, it was all old scraps he probably had picked up from recycling bins.

He changed into his shirt for practice, having to suppress a shriek as something scratched at his back. He dug out the thing that was making him uncomfortable, and slammed his head into the nearest locker. Him again.

Before throwing it out, however, he caught a glimpse of the words, and realized it was something different. Kageyama unfolded it completely, and raised an eyebrow.

_“Oh, and thanks for walking me.”_

“Christ,” he muttered. Hinata already thanked him like a hundred times, the other ninety-nine being the night before. But then, he asked for a toss like ten _million_ times. He was less sincere than annoying by far.

He never thought the day would come where he wouldn’t make fun of someone his age for being afraid of the dark, but he realized that in Hinata’s case, it was probably valid. He was the first deaf person he’d ever interacted with, and the fact that they first met on the court was surprising, even to him. Yet the short player was probably serious about improving himself—Kageyama could write a novel of everything he didn’t like about Hinata (he was clumsy, annoying and managed to be loud despite never speaking a word) but he could appreciate that much about him, at least.

He glared at the space before him, remembering not too fondly the warmth of Hinata’s fingers against his lip. He should have kicked him for that. He didn’t know why he hadn’t back then.

As he jogged to the gym, he wondered what other inconveniences Hinata had to deal with to play the sport he loved, and what other fears plagued his mind that he probably couldn’t begin to understand.

...

Hinata ran into Sugawara while headed for lunch break. Or, while the silver-haired setter was headed for lunch break, and he was exiting the building to practice.

“Ah, Hinata!” Suga said cheerfully, giving him a small wave. Hinata greeted him back excitedly—all the upperclassmen he’d met from the volleyball team seemed nice so far, but already found himself most comfortable with Suga.

He blinked in surprise, grinning as Sugawara signed, _“How are you today?”_

 _“Really great!”_ he responded, probably a little too quick since he was excited. Someone in the club knew sign! Or, was learning it. He should slow down a bit to help him out—all of Sugawara’s movements were a bit slow, as if he were afraid of saying something wrong. _“You’re learning sign?”_ he asked, this time more deliberately.

 _“Just a little,”_ he said back, smiling. The third year then laughed, and said out loud, “I’m no good at it yet though—forgive me, but I’d appreciate you letting me know if I do something weird.”

Hinata nodded quickly; he’d be more than happy to help him. He said something else to Suga in sign, but when he was only responded with a sheepish smile and a brief shake of the head, he took out his notebook.

_“You didn’t have to learn for me!”_

“Oh no, of course I did!” the older student responded, patting him on the head. “You’re really good at lip-reading, but you have to inconvenience yourself so much for us to understand you. Plus, you can’t really whip out a notebook and pen mid-game—it’s not a bad idea for at least a few of us to know sign language.”

Under Sugawara’s smiles, Hinata was probably melting. He was so nice!

“Ah, are you practicing now?” the senior asked as they made their way down the halls. It had quieted down a bit, being a few minutes into the period.

Hinata nodded again, tossing the ball high and making a bumping motion with his arms. _“Receives!”_

He grinned in understanding, catching the ball and handing it to him as it came down. Receiving was most definitely the redhead’s weakest point, other than his plain lack of experience, and the fact that he was trying so earnestly to correct his flaws was touching. “In that case, let me help! I’m not as good as Daichi, but I can at least hit the ball to you.”

Hinata’s eyes lit up, and he scribbled furiously, _“Is that really okay?!”_

“Sure, sure! Just don’t let captain know, it’ll be our secret,” he said with a finger raised to his lip. Jubilantly, Hinata pumped his arms to the sky, bounding out the door. The period was almost over that day, but Sugawara was fine with just starting him off, giving him a few pointers that Hinata could remember and practice on his own. The younger boy had mentioned never having a formal coach—it showed in his improper form and disadvantageous stances. Hinata had a lot of energy, but it didn’t mean anything if he burned through it all with sloppy receives.

The next few mornings that followed were similar—he gave his junior a mix of practical instruction and heartfelt encouragement, and Hinata responded with utmost determination and sincerity. He found Hinata easy to teach—praises didn’t undermine his efforts, instead making the redhead try harder, so he made sure to commend him when receives came out well. He didn’t bend under criticism either. He knew sending the ball back was tricky—it wasn’t something Hinata could learn overnight, and he kept that in mind as the boy fumbled throughout their practices. And in turn, Hinata helped him learn as well. When Sugawara did know something in sign language, he would hesitantly try to convey it, and Hinata would either respond back or correct him slightly, beaming the whole while. He actually felt a bit bad; learning how to receive was much more grueling than learning sign. He was already used to having to learn volleyball signals. It would take him a while to learn enough words to communicate fluently, but it wasn’t as though it were difficult.

Before long, it was their last private session before Hinata’s match with the other two freshmen. The boy had gotten noticeably better over the past few days, from their practices with Tanaka and Kageyama in the morning in the gym, the ones with him at lunch, and when he played in the evening with the moody setter (where on _earth_ did he get his energy?). It wasn’t a vast improvement, but Hinata should be able to hold his own against Tsukishima and Yamaguchi tomorrow—neither were powerhouses offensive-wise. While Hinata and Kageyama were banned from club activities for the time being, the other two freshmen certainly weren’t, and Sugawara took the opportunity to observe them. Out of his own curiosity, of course; he wouldn’t help Hinata out _that_ much. The enthusiastic junior was already dear to his heart, but it wasn’t as though he had a raging vendetta against the other two. And he valued his own life. Daichi could truly kill a man with words, if he wished.

“Why do you want Kageyama to toss to you so badly?” he asked, watching in amusement as the question caused Hinata to lose focus for a moment. The ball was sent flying a few feet away, and the redhead rushed to get it.

 _“Ah... I joined the team hoping I’d get to play with a setter, since I never really got a chance,”_ he signed, tucking the ball under his arm. _“His tosses looked really cool last year! So I really...”_

 _“You’re clumsy,”_ Kageyama had told him.

_“...was looking forward to it...”_

_“I won’t toss to you until I deem you necessary.”_

Suga gave a pitying smile as Hinata’s head hung. They weren’t at each other’s throats as constantly anymore, but their relationship was far from smooth. He patted him on the shoulder to get his attention, and Hinata looked up. “I’m a setter too, you know. If you like, you can practice your spikes with me.”

Pure joy crossed Hinata’s face, before it was quickly replaced by a scowl of sorts, directed at no one in particular behind him.

“You really want Kageyama’s tosses, huh?” The redhead’s cheeks suddenly flushed, and he shook his head quickly.

 _“It’s not like that!”_ he signed rapidly in protest. _“It’s just...”_ His hands froze for a moment as he seemed to reflect on something, then continued, _“He was always towering over me, super strong and really scary!”_ Hinata shuddered, and Suga nodded in understanding; Kageyama was much more intimidating back in middle school; he couldn’t imagine being faced against him in a game pleasant. _“I came here to beat him—though he ended up coming too—but I feel like if I can get him to acknowledge me, I’ll have won... somehow.”_

“So that’s what it was,” he laughed. “You’ve been thinking of him as your strongest enemy, right?”

Hinata’s head turned away even further, the movement of his hands staggered and choppy as he tried to give confirmation. ‘ _He really doesn’t want to admit it, huh?’_

He waited for the freshman to turn back around, before flashing a grin and saying, “Well, now he’s your strongest ally!” Instead of losing to each other, they can win together. He could already see it—Kageyama, who was an undoubtedly strong player, and Hinata, with boundless potential and unexpected charisma, becoming something special for the team. He couldn’t say _how_ just yet; but the coals were there, scattered at their feet.

He smiled, and clapped his hands. “Alright, back to practice!” Hinata gave a vigorous nod, and tossed the ball back to him for more receiving.

All that was left was to spark a flame.

...

Kageyama watched as Hinata zipped back and forth across the court, in efforts to receive every ball he threw at him—no matter how unreasonable, or inconvenient. His sweat practically coated the floor, and his breathing was erratic and fast and was telling the setter that he was probably ready to drop dead.

They were sloppy.

Hinata hit another.

His success rate was far from satisfactory.

Another ball bounced off his arms, the skin raw and red.

Most of his receives wouldn’t go right to a setter—he was leaving a mess that others would have to clean up after.

The boy across the court only crouched, waiting for the next one, and the next one, and the next one.

 _You’re at your limit,_ he had told him a long, long time ago.

_...The ball... hasn’t hit the ground yet!_

_Bam!_ The last one went straight up into the air, hovering right over his head. Hinata was noisy, he thought. The older boy never said—couldn’t say—a word. But the sound of him hitting the ground every time he leaped, the crude thump of every ball he sent back to him, his gasps for breath and the way he had slapped the ground in anger when Kageyama suggested ending it for the day, almost fearful of how boundless his mental limits were—he heard it all.

Volleyball was Hinata’s voice.

Kageyama slowly raised his hands over his head, eyes focused on the object falling slowly towards him. The redhead’s playing was completely graceless, inconsistent, undignified. There was nothing cool about it at all.

But since the day of his semifinals match, it was the loudest thing he’d ever heard.

“Isn’t that...” Sugawara whispered from the side of the court, eyes transfixed on the setter in front of him.

Tanaka’s eyes widened, and he elbowed him excitedly. “...I think it is!”

_‘This is my answer.’_

The ball just barely grazed his fingertips, before vaulting into the air. He watched wordlessly as Hinata’s face lit up, as bright as the sun, as he rushed forward to spike the falling projectile. The ball echoed as it whacked the floor, rolling all the way to the other wall before stopping. The redhead hit the floor hard, chest heaving as he lay grinning on the ground.

Without thinking, Kageyama found himself taking a step towards him, then another. Hinata’s face was lying close to his feet, and his shadow fell on the player’s face.

“...Let’s win tomorrow,” he told him. He didn’t know why he bothered saying it again. He didn’t know what made this moment any different. It’d been obvious all along, that he’d be on the winning side. But there was definitely something stirring in him, strange and unfamiliar and still completely beyond his grasp but he could tell was inching closer and closer to his understanding.

To say “let’s,” instead of “I’ll...” was it that big of a deal?

Hinata’s eyes reflected the confidence that shone in his own, and he nodded in agreement. It didn’t matter if their opponents were as tall as the empire state building—they’d find a way through them all!

As Hinata tried to get up on his own, Kageyama turned on his heels. ... _He’s quiet again_ , he thought, looking away. To go from sitting tranquility to a restless force to be reckoned with—he was as equally tumultuous as a sea as he was as bright like the sun.

From the sidelines, the silver-haired third year let out a massive sigh, not realizing he’d been holding his breath for a while. “Gosh, that was nerve-wracking! I think I knocked a few years off my life.”

Tanaka was bawling, rubbing his hand fiercely against his eyes. “Hinata is such a hard worker! I would have kicked Kageyama if he made such bad tempered—holy fuck get water!” he yelled in panic, seeing Hinata retching on the ground.

Kageyama took a good dozen or so steps back, cringing. Hinata wasn’t cool _at all_.

...But he wouldn’t mind playing on the same side as him, probably.

...

Come next morning, it was finally time for their match—the deciding factor for whether Kageyama could play as the team’s setter, and Hinata’s first game since the one they had the year before. Exchanging determine nods at the gym’s entrance, the entered at the same time, catching the faces of their opponents upon walking in. Tsukishima, as always, smiled as though he had some sort of unpleasant plan in mind, while Yamaguchi gave a small wave in greeting.

Daichi blinked upon seeing the two freshmen enter, practically in stride. He had been called a dense fool by a good many people before, but even he could see that something between them had changed. And to his relief, it seemed to be for the better.

“That makes everyone,” he said lightly, before clapping his hands to get the room’s attention. “Good morning! I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll be playing as the third man on the other team.” Seeing Hinata’s bewildered expression (they were seriously going against the captain?!) he waved his hand in assurance. “Don’t worry, Tanaka’s much stronger than I am offensively. You won’t regret having him on your team.”

“Damn right you won’t!” Tanaka whooped. “Sorry Daichi, but you know I never hold back.”

The captain laughed; he knew it better than anyone. “By all means, give it your best shot.”

As per instructions of the other second years (Kinnoshita, Narita, and Ennoshita, as they introduced themselves) those that were playing all assembled in front of the net, bowing as customs called for. “Let’s have a good match!”

Seeing that there were only three people per team, they all stood up closer to the net, with the exception of Daichi, who was familiar with Tanaka’s attack range and knew that his spikes usually went for the back row.

“You two aren’t looking very much to win, huh?” the captain had asked them. He got only a sheepish laugh from Yamaguchi in response, and stone cold silence from the other. He never got along with observant people. “Well, for the team’s sake, let’s try and teach them a lesson or two.”

Ennoshita stood off the court, in between the two teams. The second year couldn’t help the drastic contrast in atmosphere between them—one side out to kill, and the other just barely serious, though Tsukishima did look a bit annoyed. It was amazing how much of a difference motivation can make. Then again, any side with Tanaka on it was bound to be intense.

He raised his flag, giving the ball to the captain’s team to serve first, whistle held close to his lip.

“Game... start!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laughs because everything is out of order
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for your support as always..!! Hope to see everyone again soon!


	4. The View on the Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits to me best friendo lisa_mishima for looking all the chapters over..!! <3<3 I only made changes on this one so far but the others will be edited eventually and they will be perf bc she's amazing :') (and a special thank you also to DestinyParadox20 and imaginethehaikyuukids on tumblr for filling me w inspiration~! Bless ur HQ loving souls ;;v;;) 
> 
> Hope you guys like the chapter!

“Hey, Hinata, have you ever felt a really weird rush while playing a sport?” Izumi asked him as they practiced, trying to get into the rhythm of setting. The concept was similar to shooting in basketball, but the execution was completely different. He had to be gentler, give more of an arc, push down the temptation to use his palms instead of his fingertips, and most importantly, his “hoop” was a bouncing redheaded ball of energy, whose jumping height varied with his mood.

Hinata gave a yell of happiness as the spike connected, then signed, “ _What do you mean?”_ before rushing off to get the ball. Ever since he had found out about volleyball, he refused invitations from every other sport to join their ranks, instead investing his time to practice the sport he loved most on his own—he slapped the ball off walls in the hallways, tried (and failed) to set up his own tosses, spent the majority of the time practicing with the girls’ volleyball team, and had recently gotten into playing at their local rec center with a handful of unusually fit senior citizens. As such, he hadn’t played any sort of match for a while, save for the first day of baseball tryouts where he was flung into a scrimmage. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if he weren’t distracted by what he had seen on the TV earlier that day, and probably if he at least knew the rules before playing. Well, the day wasn’t completely wasted. Hinata was able to learn that the sport just wasn’t right for him—the field was far too wide, so he couldn’t see most of what the coach or anyone else was saying.

_“Are you deaf?!” the man had roared at him later that day, knocking him on the head with his clipboard._

_He gave a sheepish smile, before nodding to confirm that indeed, he actually was deaf, and not just some extremely free-willed player who refused to listen to anyone’s instruction._

Izumi furrowed his brow as he made a mental note to aim higher. “Ah, I don’t know how to describe it without sounding weird... but sometimes when I play basketball, when I’m doing _really_ well, time just kind of stops. Everyone seems to be moving in slow motion—like snails! I see the whole court right in front of me, and all the gaps between the players, even their _faces_ , and for one second it’s like I know _exactly_ what to do and how to get to the hoop!” He remembered those few, few rare moments in games as clear as day, and relived them in his mind constantly. He wasn’t a natural talent; basketball was difficult to get into, with a lot of moving around and the towering seniors (as Izumi didn’t have much height on him either). But his first game, when he subbed in as a point guard and his teammates had finally succeeded in handing the ball to him, he saw that ‘vision’ of the court and the feeling that he could do anything, and was hooked on the sport ever since.

Hinata blinked, trying to picture such an image, but found himself unable to. He offered a wide grin instead, tossing the ball back to his friend. _“I’ve never felt anything like that before... but I believe you! And it sounds really fun!”_ The redhead paused, before signing slowly, _“You really love basketball, huh?”_

“I do,” Izumi had responded immediately with a nod, jerking back a bit when he realized Shouyou was on the verge of tears.

 _“Sorry for making you practice volleyball with me all the time!_ ” Hinata signed quickly before rubbing at his face with his hands, and the other boy had to rush over quickly to console him.

“Hey, don’t be sorry! That’s what friends are for—don’t get emotional on me now, we’re just getting started...”

...

_“Just jump as high as you can... and I will get the ball to you!”_

19-24, set 2. The game was in Hinata’s favor. From the corner of his eye, he saw the ball float over to Kageyama, fingertips outstretched over his head... wait, float? The ball was supposed to be moving faster than that, wasn’t it?

He didn’t question it further, however, casting a brief glare in Tsukishima’s direction before sprinting around to the other side of the court, dodging his blockers as Kageyama had instructed him to. His mind currently numb, he barely registered the fact that everyone seemed to be moving strangely slow, the blond’s eyes widening in realization before he turned on his heel, arm tensed and going up into the air as he tried to follow him.

 _“Everyone seems to be moving in slow motion—like snails! I see the whole court right in front of me, and all the gaps between the players, even their_ faces _, and for one second it’s like I know_ exactly _what to do and how to get to the hoop!”_

He jumped, the world going dark as he closed his eyes—not what the setter had told him to do, but it was the only way he could keep himself from looking at the ball. He was extremely driven by sight—he had become accustomed to taking in every detail around him with his eyes, noting every slight movement, seeing every last drop of color, in some cases for the sake of his own safety. Don’t look at the ball? To accomplish something like that, he couldn’t look at anything at all.

But it was a little scary, flying through the air in complete darkness. How high was he going? Where would he end up? Was he doing what he was supposed to? He had jumped as high as he could, he was certain of that. Shoving down his insecurities, he held his breath, and swung his arm down.

Then, he felt it, something solid and weighty against his hand. It was painful, actually—it stung, it burned, he knew that if he looked at his palm later, it would be bright red probably, but a surge of exhilaration swelled like a tide in his chest that was too great to ignore. In the moment where time seemed to slow, just for him, he opened his eyes, and light flooded his vision.

He saw it. He saw everything. He saw the net far beneath him, Tsukishima’s and Yamaguchi’s and the captain’s awestruck expressions, and the world past the blond’s fingertips.

For the first time in his entire life, he saw the horizon on the other side.

And at that moment, he knew he would chase it until the day he died. 

...

Daichi sighed as the boys exited the gym for the evening, sinking into the bleachers. He never imagined it to be the case so early on, but Kageyama’s and Hinata’s quicks were unexpectedly tiresome. Not to mention, Hinata’s Dark Side was quite jarring. He saw it that day while the first year was re-handing him his application, his head hunched over and hands trembling. Upon a closer look, he saw the redhead’s eyes were wide and bright with intensity, lips upturned at the corners. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him like that—but the last time he did was from a balcony, watching a one-sided game from afar. It was unsettling, seeing that kind of face on someone who normally seemed so welcome and cheerful, though it’s not to say even his enthusiasm could be overbearing at times.

He ran a hand through his hair. Both Kageyama and Hinata were fearsome characters. He felt as though if he didn’t watch his step, one or the other would snap (or God forbid, both) and he’d find himself swamped in more than what he could handle. Hopefully, the two would be able to keep each other in check.

“Good work today, Daichi,” Suga commented kindly, pulling him out of his thoughts. The sound of the key turning reached his ears, as the vice captain locked up the equipment for the day.

“You too. Thanks for working hard with Hinata and the others all week,” he said lightly, having to suppress a snort as Sugawara flinched.

“Ack, you noticed... well, this way, they won’t question your authority,” he replied with a brief laugh.

Daichi only hummed in response, hunching over and leaning on his elbows. “...Is this really okay with you?” he asked the setter.

Suga didn’t have to ask him to clarify. The silver-haired senior only looked at him with the smallest wisp of a smile. “It’s fine—honestly, it’s a miracle that Takeda managed to set up a game with Seijou. Imagine, one of the prefecture’s top four! There are only things to be gained from a practice match with them,” he reasoned. Daichi held his hands up in surrender; the setter was always right.

“Yeah, it’s a good opportunity... we’re only just getting started,” the captain said thoughtfully, countenance darkening as he remembered all the losses the school had suffered over the years. This year was it—it had to be. For them, it was their last.

And he had utter faith they could do it. Currently, their team was only a scatter of talents, but if they managed to pull everyone together, he could truly believe that the nationals were within their reach. But that was...

“Have you heard from Nishinoya lately?” he asked, and Sugawara nodded.

“I got a text from him the other day—they’ll be lifting his ban in about a week.”

“Not before the game then...” he said, drumming the bleachers with his fingers idly. Their team’s defense was sorely lacking. He’d have to figure out a way to cover everyone, or their potentially effective offense would be useless. “And Asahi?”

Suga froze, and he mentally kicked himself. He forgot the ace was a sensitive topic to him. “He’s still kinda...”

“Brooding?” he blurted before being able to stop himself.

Suga quirked a smile, and to his dismay, began gathering his things. “Harsh—but yes, he’s brooding. I haven’t talked to him in a while. I’ll probably go try again soon.”

Daichi grimaced. “Hey, don’t put all the responsibility—” he started, but the setter was already all the way across the room.

 “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daichi,” Suga said over his shoulder, before the door slowly closed shut, leaving him alone in the gym.

He sighed. Michimiya had always called him insensitive. But the fact remained that with Suga out and so many talented freshmen, their rotation had to change. In his head, he began assigning everyone positions for the game. As per conditions, Kageyama would be setter, Tsukishima would undoubtedly be a middle blocker—he was currently the tallest member they had. He would be in the rear, Tanaka on the left side... he would have to think a little more about Yamaguchi, but as things are it seems Ennoshita would be playing instead... and Hinata...

He blinked in confusion. What would Hinata be? Given his abilities, the most reasonable place would be wing spiker, but they had an abundance of them, and none of the others are suitable enough to switch over to middle blocker. 

He focused on the front row, on the middle spot. It was a shaky thought, and he’d need the approval of a few others, but maybe...

...

 _“—And then it was all like ‘gwah’ and I was flying—and the ball was right there!”_ Hinata said silently, one arm waving around everywhere as they walked home, his other hand guiding his bike. Kageyama could only nod in response. He had told the redhead, again, that he couldn’t understand sign language, but Hinata only told him in written words that it was fine and he just needed to talk the adrenaline off. When he really wanted Kageyama to understand something _(“Getting hit in the face actually kinda hurt, you know”_ and _“The last toss was perfect!!”_ to name a few) he just wrote it down and showed him.

Kageyama looked over and saw that he was scribbling again, squinting in the dark to see what it was.

“Why didn’t you go to Aobajosai?” he read aloud. “Ah, I got an invitation from them, and most of my old teammates went there... but I really wanted to come to Karasuno for Coach Ukai.”

The shorter teen looked at him blankly, and he scoffed. “You know the Small Giant, but not Ukai? He’s the one who mentored him, and coached at the time they went to the nationals.” He made a face, remembering what Sugawara had told him earlier. Apparently the coach left for a while and tried to come back, but his poor health forced him to retire for good.

 _“Ohhhh, that’s amazing!”_ was what he got in response. He nodded in agreement, watching as Hinata wrote something again. _“You looked like you were having fun today!”_

He blinked in surprise. He couldn’t deny it—it was fun. The most he’d ever had in awhile. “It was. I’ve never tried something like that before. It was challenging, but seeing it work so well made me want to keep going.” He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s... been a really long time since someone has been able to hit one of my tosses.”

Hinata made a face at him. _“Well if you weren’t such an ass about it, I would have totally hit it sooner!!”_

He snorted, shoving him aside with his shoulder. “And you would only be half as good at receiving as you are now—and you still suck, don’t get me wrong. I did you a favor.”

A car suddenly whirred behind him, and in a moment of panic Kageyama snatched Hinata back, his bike clattering to the pavement. The vehicle drove by, passing a few feet away from them—even if he hadn’t moved, Hinata wouldn’t have been hurt, but under his grip, he felt the redhead shaking. He moved Hinata over to his right side, away from the street. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Hinata only shot him a small smile, righting his bike. _“It’s fine, it was still far away.”_

Kageyama could only look at him in astonishment. _‘Why the hell aren’t you angry?’_ he thought, bothered by the shorter teen’s mild reaction. The guy would get pissed if he didn’t get a toss, but was fine with almost being run over? Outside of volleyball, he didn’t understand Hinata at all.

They walked in complete silence for the remainder of the short trip, even Hinata ceased to try and talk with him. Soon enough they reached the end of the city, and the road opened up, leading to Hinata’s home on the other side of the mountains. The shorter boy nodded his thanks as always, before racing ahead with his bike.

He watched Hinata clamber onto it, and in spite of himself, shouted, “Isn’t it tiresome?”

Wasn’t it tiresome to be afraid of simple things like the dark? Wasn’t it tiresome to have to accommodate almost everyone he wanted to speak with? Wasn’t it tiresome having to ask people to accommodate him?

The redhead only glanced up at him, giving a brief smile before waving at him and pedaling away. He was sure he hadn’t seen what he said. He waited until Hinata disappeared, before making his own way home.

Once he was comfortable in the silence of his room, he turned on his laptop, not bothering with the bedroom lights. He typed something into the search engine, hesitating a moment, before hitting ‘enter’ and watching results flood the screen. Kageyama clicked the first link he saw, and low murmuring filled the room, as his hands moved to copy the movements and pictures being shown to him.

 _“Good... morning... Hi... na... ta...”_  

...

The following day, they all gathered for their first official practice with (all) the freshmen. The captains thought it to be a priority to further evaluate their current skill level in games, so at the moment, they were pitted against each other in a 4 v. 4. It was going all well and dandy for the first half—Tanaka was riling up all the other players as usual, Ennoshita was trying unsuccessfully to tone it down, Kageyama was being prickly, etc, etc... until Daichi sent an ambiguous serve over to Hinata’s side of the court.

“Waitwaitwait Hinata—Ouch!” The sound of two bodies hitting the floor echoed throughout the gym, followed by Tanaka’s loud cursing, and everyone turned to look with grimaces on their faces. The upperclassman was pinned to the ground on his stomach, the redhead lying across his back face up and eyes spinning. They both had jumped for the receive at the same time—Tanaka couldn’t stop himself lying forward in midair, and Hinata didn’t notice his warnings to stop backing up.

“Are you two alright?!” Sugawara asked, tugging Hinata by the wrists off Tanaka’s back and pulling the second year up. Tanaka flashed him a look of gratitude as he stood, cracking his spine this way and that.

“Hoo, thanks—I’ll live; but Jesus, it’s a lot harder to stay out of his way with two other people to worry about. What the hell are we gonna do with a full court?” Tanaka asked, rubbing at the back of his head. The fact remained that in a few days’ time there’d be six on the same side, and the court wasn’t going to get any larger.

Yamaguchi had helped Hinata get up as well, the latter immediately bowing his apologies to the player he accidentally knocked to the floor. Sugawara tuned out Tanaka’s attempts to console him, trying to come up with a solution to the younger teen’s valid question. They had to find a way to communicate on the court quickly that they could all use. Maybe have everyone learn sign language?

He looked over at the rabble, shaking his head. No, it wasn’t that simple—like any other language, it wasn’t easy, and not all of them could become fluent as necessary for the game that was to take place in a few days. And not to mention, using sign language was a little slower than speaking out loud, and in a game there were no seconds to waste. But if he shortened them...

 _Give the ball to me,_ he signed, then shook his head. Too long. _Here._ That was doable, but the meaning was vague. Run to here? Toss to here? Look here? He idly practiced a few other signs, ones he knew before Hinata had joined. Even without any players that had hearing disabilities, they came in handy for throwing off the opponent until they figured it out, so towards the end of his second year when he became the official setter he began designing his own. All were short, distinctive, quick, and easy enough to learn.

Then he began making random gestures, ones he hadn’t assigned any particular meaning yet. This could mean, ‘I got it,’ and this one could be, ‘watch your left...’ He couldn’t think of many on the spot, but he was sure if he thought about it—

A smile settled on his lips. This could work! He excitedly relayed his plans to Daichi, who quickly agreed before looking around the gym.

“Hey, guys! Come here for a second!” the captain called, and waited a few moments as everyone gathered around. The vice captain broke into a sweat—the team looked a lot bigger now. Before he could consider taking anything back, Daichi began to speak.

“Alright; as you know, we have a game in a few days, and we need a way to relay information to each other on the court—one that won’t end up with two or more players on the ground,” he said sternly. Suga blinked as Daichi dug out a sheet of paper and lay it flat on the ground, surprised he still had the thing.

Tanaka’s eyes widened. “Oh! I remember these!” Sugawara had presented it to the team when he became the official setter at the end of the other year.

“Signs...?” Yamaguchi asked, pulling the sheet a little closer as he tried to read through the faded ink and wrinkles.

Sugawara nodded. “I can’t toss to anyone anywhere like Kageyama can, so I made signs to tell the other players where to go. It’s incomplete as of now; the list only includes signs that a setter would use to surprise the opposite team, but there are plenty others that people normally just say out loud. I’ll let you know when I have an updated list.”

“Perfect,” Tsukishima echoed. “I can learn just enough to keep the clumsy oaf off me.” He had no interest in communicating with the redhead outside the game.

Kageyama only eyed the sheet, slightly miffed that he had to learn this in addition to Japanese sign language. Though, it did make sense—some commands were just too long. He grunted in acknowledgement, realizing he had a long way to go as a setter—he’d never have gone so far out of his way to suit other people. It’s always been the other way around.

Hinata suddenly sniffled, causing everyone to look him in surprise. _“You’re all doing so much to make me part of the team...”_

Sugawara blinked, stunned as he translated for everyone else. “Don’t make it sound like an inconvenience! There are a lot of reasons to use signs—like I said earlier, I did to direct the other players.”

“If we use more signs, the other team will have a harder time figuring out what we’re up to when it matters,” Ennoshita added. “Impressive, Sugawara. Leave it to you to come up with something like this.”

The silver-haired setter waved his hands in protest. “Oh no, I’m not that great—ouch,” he coughed, as Daichi elbowed him in the gut.

“You’re the best vice-captain anyone here could ask for and you know it,” the captain huffed. “Right, so it’s settled! I’ll make copies of this for everyone so you can learn it before the game, and let you know when Suga figures out more.”

“Plan on leaving me to do all the work, hm?” the vice captain teased, and Daichi gracelessly sputtered something along the lines of, “Of course I’ll help!”

“Only Sugawara can make fun of Daichi and get away with it,” Ennoshita warned quietly to the first years, who nodded quickly in response.

Daichi, though not hearing the specific words of his teammate, cast him a look of suspicion. “Chikara, don’t go corrupting them just yet.”

The second year smiled. “It’s not corruption if it’ll help them survive.”

 _‘Ennoshita could probably get away with it too,’_ everyone thought in unison.

The captain had to stop himself from sighing, instead straightening up and taking back the sheet of paper. “Back to practice, then—let’s keep preparing ourselves for the game!”

“Yes captain!”

Kageyama and Hinata were left standing, the redhead seemingly frozen in place. Kageyama moved in front of him, studying his face. “Is something the matter?”

His eyes showed that he was close to tears, but a big, broad smile stretched across his face. _“Nothing... I’m just really happy!”_ he signed, then suddenly remembered that Kageyama couldn’t understand him. Before he could apologize, however, the other boy only paused a moment before nodding, and rushed off to join the rest of the group.

Hinata blinked in confusion. Did Kageyama understand that just now? He never told him he was learning sign—

 _‘No, no.’_ He dismissed the thought immediately. Kageyama of all people wouldn’t bother learning it for him. The setter was probably just as overjoyed as Tsukishima that he only had to learn volleyball-related stuff. He probably just guessed what he was saying... or something.

Hinata shook himself out of his thoughts, seeing the aforementioned setter waving impatiently to him, and a smile lit up his face. So long as Kageyama tossed to him, he could put up with whatever he had to!

Standing next to him on the court, though, Hinata realized that he spent an awful lot of time with him—probably more than he did with anyone else in the school. Unable to help himself, he couldn’t let the thought silently slip past, _‘It’d be kind of nice if we could just talk to each other sometimes...’_

...

The next few days, Kageyama kept the secret to himself, watching Hinata and Sugawara speak and silently interpreting their signs without butting in. He rarely ever practiced them more than once or twice himself—he would probably find use in it occasionally, but he was content enough with just being able to understand the motions. He also watched how one by one, the members approached Hinata about learning sign language, much to the older boy’s delight. Even though Sugawara had told them it wasn’t necessary, most of them wanted to be able to speak with Hinata on at least a basic level. He even caught Tsukishima insulting the redhead in sign at one point. 

In about three days, Kageyama felt moderately comfortable with the language. The day before he didn’t have any difficulties understanding what Hinata said, and he brushed up on things he wasn’t sure about when he got home.

Someone suddenly jostled him from behind, and he whirled around to see a mess of orange hair level with his chest. _“Good morning, Kageyama!”_ he had signed, before his face blanked in realization.

Before he could pull anything out, however, Kageyama responded out loud, “Good morning.”

Hinata blinked once, then twice, before signing something else in stunned silence.

“You understand me?  When did you learn sign? How long did it take? Stop copying me and answer my questions—” Kageyama said as the shorter teen’s hands moved in a blur, watching in amusement as he became annoyed.

“With the first glass a man drinks wine—don’t try and use complicated proverbs to confuse me, idiot!” Kageyama snapped, bringing a hammered fist down upon Hinata’s head.

He watched silently and Hinata clutched his head, shaking and bent over. For a second he worried he might have hit the boy too hard, but then he heard something light and cheery fill the hallway; Hinata was laughing.

It was the first time he’s heard him, he realized. It was strange hearing something other than excited yelling and incomprehensive noises come out of his mouth, but it wasn’t... unpleasant. Though for some reason, it made the room uncomfortably warm.

 _“Sorry, sorry, just...”_ Hinata stood, and flashed a toothy grin at him. _“Thank you! It means a whole lot!”_

“D...don’t mention it, dumbass,” he muttered, flicking him on the forehead. “It’s just so you don’t have to write anything—do you know how many pencils I lost already?”

 _“Eh? Bakageyama isn’t going to use sign?”_ Hinata inquired, shrieking as Kageyama pushed him.

“It’s a pain to use. I only need to understand you.”

“ _Stingyyy_ —” Kageyama stopped his motions with a quick chop, huffing in annoyance. If he was just going to be insulted by Hinata in sign, he shouldn’t have learned it.

The bell rang, and Kageyama told him as such. Hinata then rushed off to his class, waving as he rushed down the hall. _“See you in practice!”_

He sighed, then decided to humor him just once. He reflected the redhead’s earlier signs, responding with a silent, _“See you.”_

Hinata froze at the end of the hallway, a wide grin slowly lighting up his whole face. He looked like he wanted to run back to him, for some reason, but something else around the corner seemed to catch his attention. The redhead’s gaze flicked between the source of the interruption and him, before he finally gave one last wave and disappeared for the first period.

Kageyama raised an eyebrow, wondering about Hinata’s delayed leave, but the second bell rang and reminded him that he had to get to his own room. It probably wasn’t important, he concluded, as he strolled into his classroom without catching anyone’s attention.

He opened his textbook, realizing with a grimace that he basically hadn’t touched any of the school’s material for three days, being so preoccupied with learning sign.

“If I fail,” he muttered crossly, stubbornly shoving aside the small voice in his head reminding him that he learned the language of his own will, “it’s all your goddamn fault.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUHUHU tries desperately to swerve away from the manga--I never intended for the fic to be so close =v= Thank you so so much for all your support..!!! 1000 HITS HOW IS THAT A THING IM STUNNED //lies down for the next million years
> 
> Please leave a few words on the way out, good or bad! They're my main source of fuel as a writer, I read each one repeatedly //salutes/ Thank you for reading, and have a good day!


	5. 'I'll Meet You There'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very bad at balancing art and writing and am super ashamed this is late but--///dumps this mess and runs away 
> 
> (beta credit to the fabbu lisa_mishima..!)

The day after their game with Seijou, rumors began circulating their school about their victory. Kageyama heard it as he passed through the halls, receiving pointed looks that were a mix of what he supposed was curiosity and admiration. He and the other players in middle school received more attention than this by their peers, but he guessed it was because Karasuno wasn’t really known for their volleyball team. The setter liked the publicity (he aimed to be a nationally famous player, after all) but he was mildly irritated that he seemed to be receiving most of the credit compared to his other teammates. It’s not as though he beat Seijou by himself.

There was that fact, but there was also that his lockers were once again filled to brim with papers; only this time they were confession letters.

“I don’t care about this stuff!” he raged, startling his surrounding teammates as they changed for practice. It was annoying enough to go through the crap Hinata left for him, but now he had to deal with girls!

 _“Yamayama is so popular already,”_ Hinata signed beside him. Kageyama jammed his fingers into the redhead’s forehead in response, who yelled and nursed his wound on the ground.

“Why is this freshman receiving more letters than I am?!” Tanaka wailed in the corner.

“If I’m not wrong, it would only take one letter to have more than you,” Ennoshita commented mildly.

Tsukishima slipped his shirt over his head, replacing his glasses on his face. “Savage,” he said with a smirk.

Kageyama growled irritably. “You take these, Hinata.”

The middle blocker looked at him, flabbergasted. _“And do what?! They’re for you!”_

“Surely you’d know how to deal with these!”

He shook his head persistently. _“I’d never gotten one either!”_

The setter blinked. “Why not?” He was genuinely curious as to why he received like a dozen of these, while Hinata apparently never got a single one. Not that he had any problems with it, but the redhead was way more of a people person than he was.

Hinata’s eye twitched. _“I don’t know? Ask one of the hundred girls who like you instead?”_ he signed, wearing a rather cross expression.

_“It’s probably because you’re sh—”_

“Well!” Sugawara said, bumping into Tsukishima before the blond could finish his remark. “Probably the most responsible thing would be to confront them, but you probably wouldn’t—”

“Waste of time,” Kageyama rejected. “I’d rather practice.”

“…want to. But if all they did was leave a letter, they might not be expecting a response anyway? Even so, for karma’s sake, you should at least read them. And maybe make sure that they actually aren’t expecting anything. Some of them might have asked to meet you, and it wouldn’t be good to stand them up.”

The dark-haired setter groaned. “I don’t understand how people who don’t know me can spend time on me like this.”

Suga quirked a smile. “That’s why I think it’s fine not to worry too much. But make sure you read them!” he ordered firmly. “Any act of kindness should be appreciated. You might even like what some of them say.”

“Hm…” Some of the ones were just simple words of congratulations on the game, which he didn’t mind at all, but ones that tried (and failed) to delve deeper made him want to run himself off a cliff. “I never had this problem in middle school.” He couldn’t be paid to go back for a number of reasons, but things were definitely simpler back then. He looked up, lurching back in surprise to see Hinata’s face inches from his own.

The shorter player inclined his head slightly, blinking almost owlishly. Was it possible for a guy to have such big eyes? Kageyama’s attention was directed from his face to his hands, as he said, _“Well… you were way scarier in middle school. Like you were all ‘ROARRR’ and you stomped around everywhere and made lava erupt from the ground and shot laser beams from your eyes, but now you’re not so bad.”_

He sputtered indignantly, “I did not stomp around everywhere!”

“He protests the one that’s least concerning,” Yamaguchi laughed.

 _“You did so! I felt your scary vibes from miles away, and I’m pretty sure some of the flowers decorating the entrance wilted—”_ he shrieked as Kageyama lunged at him, zipping out of the locker room.

“No head starts!” he yelled, chasing after him. Hinata already had one up on him, there was no way he’d let him have another.

_‘You’re not so bad.’_

His heart rate sped up, which was loud and annoying and he was thoroughly confused as to why it was doing that. That wasn’t even a compliment? And not to mention compliments from _Hinata_ of all people didn’t mean anything—

 _‘They’re better than all those letters,’_ he suddenly thought, and nearly tripped on his own feet.

It’s because he was running. That’s the only reason why he was getting worked up. There’s no other reason, absolutely not at all.

It’s only because he was chasing him.

…

Practice concluded with all the players brimming with excitement after hearing that Takeda was searching seriously for a new coach. As he stepped out of the locker room for the night, Kageyama suddenly realized that he felt sort of at home here. No one at Karasuno hated him (except for Tsukishima). He didn’t hate anyone in particular (again, except maybe for Tsukishima). Everyone was irritating at first, but now… he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like without them. He was so used to people giving him disinterested or spiteful looks, and he was used to just walking on past them, ignoring the small pangs of hurt in his chest and filling his head with thoughts like, ‘It’s fine, this way is right, this way we can win, volleyball is all that matters and nothing else does.’ Now he thought about things like what kind of meat bun to get on the way home (always curry, in the end), wondered what he could do to make his teammates truly stand out (‘Is this toss high enough? Should it be faster? Slower? Farther away from the net? Closer to it?’), and he found himself thinking quite a bit about how he could beat Hinata, which in the back of his mind he knew was dumb since he was clearly better than him at the sport he loved most, but he still thought about it.

“You plan on living in the doorway, King?” Tsukishima asked behind him. Kageyama didn’t look away from the sky at which he was staring, shuffling over so the taller player could pass.

“I wish I could,” he responded distantly. Hinata wasn’t done yet, so it was quiet. He hated the quiet at home, where he passed time by filling his head with practicing, studying, training, anything at all to fill the empty space. But the quiet here, because it was due to people leaving and not that they were never really there in the first place, that they would _definitely_ come back, was still less lonely and preferable.

The blond looked at him oddly over his shoulder. “Weirdo,” he said before departing for the day. Yamaguchi gave him a slight smile and wave before leaving with him.

 _“Nationals!”_ Kageyama gave a startled ‘oof!’ as Hinata suddenly rammed into him from behind, bearing a grin that he honestly thought was the brightest thing in this night.

“Don’t _do_ that, dumbass—What did you say?”

The redhead signed again. _“Nationals! You can’t live in the doorway, Bakageyama. Otherwise I’ll leave you behind.”_

“Yeah… That’s right. I won’t let you,” he told him, elbowing him in the gut to get him back for earlier. He made his way down the stairs, towards the direction they always took when he walked Hinata back.

Something tugging at his sleeve prevented him from taking another step, and he turned to see the middle blocker looking at him expectantly. “What is it now?” he asked, with no particular bite in his voice.

 _“Not yet,”_ Hinata signed. The dark-haired teen raised his eyebrow in question.

He smiled at him, figure clear as day under the post light. _“Let’s play a little more.”_

…

“…Why the fuck are you trying to do a jump serve,” Kageyama commented, and Hinata’s face flushed, seeing the ball land a pitifully short distance away.

 _“I wanted to try it once! Just once!”_ he signed in protest. _“You always look super cool when you do it, so—”_ His hands quickly stopped in their tracks, and he landed flat on his back as the ball was launched into his face.

He cradled his forehead, wondering what on earth he said to deserve such punishment (he said something _nice_ for Pete’s sake!) and opened one eye to see the setter standing above him, extending the volleyball to him with one hand.

“It’s called starting with the basics, dumbass,” he saw the tall youth say. “Pull off basic serves, and basic receives, and basic spikes, and maybe then we can talk about jump serves.”

He caught the ball as it landed on his chest, not bothering to hide his pouting. Working his way up sounded so boring! He just wanted to do the cool stuff already!

His eyes narrowed as he remembered the ‘Grand King’ from the other day, whose jump serves made even Kageyama’s look weak. He hated to admit it, but they really would have been in trouble if he had been there from the start. They won by the scrape of their teeth.

 _‘That’s the kind of setter Kageyama wants to be…?’_ he wondered. He clearly held a lot of respect for Oikawa, even if he seemed to hate him at the same time. The redhead didn’t like him at all either, but he couldn’t help but think about what it would have been like playing on his team.

In all honesty, his first thought was that it would be boring. They were strong, but not flashy at all.

“How long are you planning to—agh!” Hinata yanked Kageyama down to the grass with him, who landed beside him on his shoulder, laughing as he imagined the younger player hiss a flurry of curses. They looked at each other a moment, before Kageyama quickly turned to face the other side, much to his puzzlement. He couldn’t understand what he was saying if he did that.

 _“They called us the ‘Silent Court!’”_ Hinata signed excitedly above both their faces, so even Kageyama could see. _“It sounds really awesome!”_ The team had only tested it out in one game so far, but the signs worked like a charm. First disastrous set aside, he kept himself alert and was able to keep track of everyone’s whereabouts. He’d hate it if anyone got injured because of him, so he was happy beyond any words (or signs) could say that Sugawara had come up with this and everyone was working with it.

 _“…The name doesn’t really suit you,”_ Kageyama signed back. _“Even if you don’t talk, you’re noisy.”_

The redhead thought about that for a moment. It wasn’t as though he could hear himself. _“How am I worse than anyone else?”_

 _“That back of the head serve was really noisy.”_ Kageyama ended his statement by knocking the back of his hand to Hinata’s forehead, and he shoved the offending limb off his face.

 _“I’m sorry! It was an accident!”_ He shuddered, remembering the tall setter looming over him. It definitely won’t happen again. He seriously thought his life was in danger up until that point.

He suddenly remembered something, and grabbed at Kageyama’s hand, staring at it under the dim lights. The other boy’s long fingers curled around his own as he tried to shake him free, likely protesting verbally as well, but Kageyama still wouldn’t really look at him so he couldn’t tell. Hinata squeezed tighter, refusing to let go, noting the exact moment the setter accepted his fate and his hand went limp.

After a moment, Hinata traced something on the back of his hand, and his teammate finally understood what he was thinking. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kageyama finally turn to him and say, “Well, yeah the words are gone. It’s been months.” Sharpie was magical and all but not even that could last forever.

 _“You still remember?”_ he asked him.

“You hit me in the back of the head then, too. Of course I’d remember.”

Hinata still held on to his hand, holding it in both of his own. It was bigger than his, and smooth and a little bony and he could clearly outline how his knuckles jutted out just with his sight. _‘This hand gives me tosses every day,’_ he thought. He stopped applying pressure when he sensed Kageyama tense up, not wanting him to forcefully pull his hand back yet.

Gripping his wrist tightly, Hinata reached into his own pocket and pulled out a marker. It would have been better if it was the same one as before, but heaven knew he couldn’t hold onto things for that long.

“Stupid, what are you…”

The redhead wrote carefully. Back then, he had said, ‘The only one left standing on the court will be me.’ But they were on the same team now, and things were different…

He didn’t want to win alone.

 _‘This...’_ he thought as he wrote, _‘…I like this a lot better.’_ He released Kageyama, recapping the marker. Black letters glared from tanned skin.

_“Let’s race to the top!”_

He’d obviously be there first, but they would both make it in the end. The thought made him happier than any thought of obliterating his rival ever had. Hinata watched as Kageyama studied the writing, slowly clenching his fist after a bit.

It may have been a trick of light, but he swore the setter smiled. Not his super scary one either… one that actually looked like he meant it. “Your handwriting got better, at least,” he finally commented. Hinata pouted—they were both in a rush back then!

“Challenge accepted.”

Hinata broke into a grin. _“I won’t go easy!”_ He was promptly elbowed again, probably for saying something so obvious. After recovering himself, he was strangely pleased to notice Kageyama was still looking at his writing. It couldn’t have been that bad, if he was still staring at it.

 _‘Oh…’_ he realized. _“It’s right side up this time.”_

Kageyama looked at it again, then nodded in agreement. “…Yeah, it is.”

…

Shortly after they met Nishinoya (and both of them thought he was really cool) Hinata learned about the school’s ace. Obviously, the redhead was beyond ecstatic to meet him.

…Which was how Kageyama found himself walking with the redhead on the third years’ floor during their lunch break, searching for this ‘Asahi.’ This time, the attention they were drawing wasn’t quite as welcomed. Just then, Sugawara had told them why he had left the club in the first place, and why Nishinoya was so bitter about it. Kageyama couldn’t really understand the situation, likely because he’d never really been blocked, but he could tell that Hinata sympathized. It was only just a little while ago that Tsukishima was giving him a hard time.

They ran into Asahi in the hall, and the setter noted his senior’s build—he wasn’t particularly tall; both he and a certain blond giraffe were taller, but whereas Tsukishima was rather lean, Asahi appeared large and sturdy. He could already tell that he was capable of powerful spikes. Glancing at Hinata, he could tell that the shorter player was thinking similar thoughts.

His mind began working immediately, wondering how they could deal with a defense as intense as Date Tech’s. He’d seen them play before, and even through a screen he felt chills caused by their merciless blocks. As the setter, it was his job to make sure all the players scored, and he could see how Karasuno had a hard time considering they hadn’t had any tall players in the past.

He didn’t have time for such thoughts just yet, though. Beside him, Hinata tugged at his shirt, wordlessly asking him to translate. Honestly he himself didn’t have much to say, but it was clear that his friend did.

“Ah, it’s you two again,” Asahi said, blinking in surprise. “You’re strangely determined.”

“Please come back to the team,” Kageyama said, speaking almost as quickly as Hinata’s hands moved. “The other seniors will be really sad if you don’t.” The setter had to suppress a groan. He could already tell he would be forced to say very embarrassing things very fast.

The ace looked between them, then addressed Hinata directly, since they were technically his words. “Sorry… I still remember what it’s like to be blocked, so I don’t think I can play anymore.” As he spoke, his eyes darkened, and the two freshman could tell that he was indeed haunted by the experience. While sort of intimidating, it was clear at this point that Asahi was a simple and gentle man of few words.

“I remember it too,” Kageyama (Hinata) responded. “I’m really short—pfffft.” He yelped as he felt a sharp pain on his foot, trying not to laugh. “I didn’t think you’d actually admit it though,” he told him, and got punched in the ribs.

“I’m really short,” he continued (Hinata: _“Was it really necessary to repeat that?”_ Kageyama: _“Yes”_ ) “But now I have…” Kageyama looked at Hinata in confusion, who was pointing at him. “Me?” Heat creeped up his back. “He has me,” he clarified.

Asahi nodded, seemingly amused by their antics, but not confused or anything. Kageyama continued, “So now I can get past the blockers. I can see the whole court open up below me, everyone’s faces… and the view on the other side.” The setter was a bit surprised at what he just said. He never got this kind of ‘view’ before—it wasn’t his job. Was Hinata really able to see this only because of him? At this moment, he took more pride in being a setter than ever.

The ace clearly knew what he was talking about, even if the dark-haired boy didn’t. His face washed with nostalgia, and Kageyama knew right there that he didn’t hate volleyball at all. “…Yeah, I remember that too. Even if it’s hazy,” the senior said, then smiled at the redhead. “You’re deaf, and not very tall, but I’m amazed that you have this kind of determination to play. You two are even going so far as to drag me back.” Asahi laughed weakly. “You both really love volleyball, huh?”

Hinata nodded quickly, while Kageyama said, “Yeah.” Even before Hinata moved, he added, “And you do too, don’t you?”

He faltered. “…I’m not sure about that. Thank you for coming by, really. I’ll think about it,” he said.

The freshmen bowed in acknowledgement. Hinata pretty much said all he needed to. He began bounding off down the hall, aware that the bell would probably ring soon.

Before following after him, Kageyama turned and said, “I’m still kind of learning this myself, so I don’t really have much right to speak… But there’s six people on the court for reason. You shouldn’t feel like you were fighting on your own.” He bowed again, then started to leave.

“Ah, Kageyama, was it?” Asahi stopped the first year, who nodded in response. “This may sound like a strange question, but… how much of what you said was Hinata’s thoughts, and how much were your own?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Those were mostly Hinata’s words, but I feel the same.” Though if the redhead weren’t there, he probably wouldn’t have said them.

“And what you said at the end?”

“Those are mine,” he said solemnly. Strange; he was forced to think about how he would never have said that back at Kita-Dai. The hand that was still marked from the other night curled in his pocket.

Asahi nodded, smiling appreciatively. “I understand. Thank you again. I’ll… try to drop by.”

“Mm.” The setter looked at him one last time. “I’ll see you later, then.”

As he left to follow Hinata, he remembered the boy as a third year middle schooler, who tried his hardest to carry his teammates on his back, as desperately as a drowning man would to save his life. He was the most capable player on their team back then, and probably felt a similar pressure to what the Karasuno third years had. Hinata hadn’t said this directly as he scrawled different words on his hand, but his brown eyes told signs of their own—

_‘I don’t want to win all alone.’_

_“Bakageyama? What’s taking you so long?”_ the redhead asked at the bottom of the stairs. It was a dark stairway with only one window, and Kageyama found his sight drawn right to Hinata’s face.

_“I’ll leave you behind.”_

_‘I won’t let you.’_

They caught each other’s gazes for a few moments, and Kageyama felt the shorter player’s determination mingling with his own.

In response to it all, he said clearly, “I’ll meet you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letters are right side up because Hinata wrote them standing right next to Kags, as opposed to facing him ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope the chapter was acceptable ^////^ (I rewrote it like three times OTL) If you have something you want to see in this AU please let me know if you don't mind!! As of now I just have a lot of blurbs to write about deaf Hinata and his not-yet boyfriend and a conclusion that can actually come whenever, so please feel free to help me drag it out longer :')) Thanks again--i hope everyone has a lovely day///!!


	6. 'See' the World As I Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! Thank you for being patient! Delivering another chapter of this lovable AU at your front doorstep, hehe//// Unfortunately this chapter is a bit on the slow side but I enjoyed writing it regardless! I hope you enjoy reading it as well  <3

_“Please… coach them!”_

Ukai sighed, dragging out the smoke from his cigarette as he did. While smoking usually helped him clear his mind and thus make a decision, this one time in his life, for some unfathomable reason, he couldn’t come to terms with a single thing.

On one hand, he liked Takeda sensei—although persistent, the guy had done a lot for him and his shop (business was booming nowadays because of the volleyball brats), he was honest, gave good advice when he found himself really needing it, and was generally a very good friend to have and someone he looked up to.

On the other hand, said sensei really just _did not_ know how to let up.

He had many reasons for not wanting to take the shorter man’s offer on instructing the brats, but they all just seemed to fall on deaf ears. He knew Takeda would never push him into doing something he _really_ didn’t want to, but as of late, that was what it felt like. He’d protested so much that their conversations nowadays felt like an exorcism of sorts (him trying to chant away the stubborn demon that was sensei) and that he was seriously considering on cutting all ties he had with the man (not really, he could never give him that kind of treatment just for being… earnest).

 _‘All the same…’_ he thought, stubbing out the cigarette and disposing of it properly (fire would probably damage the store’s rep, after all), then proceeded to dragging a calloused hand down his face. _‘…Why me?’_

As if on cue, the phone on the counter rang, and he looked the clock warily before setting his eyes back on the device. It was just about that time.

He sucked in a breath, then picked it up, preparing himself for the inevitable conversation that was to follow. “Hello, Sakanoshita Convenience Store, how may I help you?”

“Ukai-kun!” an all-too-familiar voice called excitedly; it was so apparent that the blond could easily imagine him bouncing in his seat. “Guess what!”

He raised a brow. So today he was going to circle around the true purpose of the call, at least. He knew it was some kind of plan of sorts to lure him in, but he took the bait anyway. What could he say? He was a curious man at heart. “What is it, sensei?” he asked, lifting a bottle of water to his lips.

He heard a small noise of triumph on the other side. “Okay, ready…” A pause followed, very closely tailed by an ecstatic, “They beat Seijou!”

His drink immediately left his mouth, spraying the counter. “What?!” Those… newbies did?!

“Yep! Well…” Takeda’s voice trailed off a bit, before he admitted, “Their official setter wasn’t there for most of the game—he only jumped in at their match point.” On the other side of the phone, the advisor was drumming his hands on the desk. “He really gave them a hard time…” he murmured. “Made it barely by the skin of their teeth.”

Hearing that bit of information, he leaned back into his seat. He didn’t really follow high school volleyball nowadays, but even _he’d_ heard of Oikawa Tooru. The setter of the team was everything, and Takeda said himself that they barely won.

 _‘But Seijou’s never been a pushover,’_ something at the back of his mind argued. He forcefully pushed the thought down, refusing to acknowledge the rabble that came into their store every day as ‘Karasuno’s savior,’ as sensei had so boldly claimed. “Sorry sensei, my answer still stands. I’m sure you remember my reasons for not wanting to do this like the back of your hand by now, and not any of them has changed.”

“But they have so much potential!” he was quick to plead. “I’m a complete newbie—you know that—but even someone like me can tell that they’re something special! They’re talented, they’re close both as teammates and friends—we even have our ace and libero now! The whole team is here!” He listened on quietly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he did. “If—if I could do more to guide them, I would… but that’s not within my ability. They need someone like you!”

Ukai let his eyes wander to the glass doors and beyond, immersing himself in the beauty of the day. Once upon a time, his ‘horizon’ was the space beyond the net, where no spikers stood in the ace’s way and led their team one step closer to victory.

Now his horizon was this: a clear and quiet sky that rested behind those doors. He didn’t have to fight for it. Didn’t have to shed tears trying. All he had to do was sit there and work.

“…Sorry,” he said again, pulling out another cigarette. “But I can’t go back.”

…

And that was the end of that.

…Or he wished he could say, but that was only the beginning of a long, winding path.

The volleyball club advisor stormed into his store the second school ended, hair ruffled and grin wide on his face. He immediately clapped his hands together. “Please teach the kids!”

The box of snacks he was planning to restock hit the floor with a thud.

“…No!”

…

His phone rang the very next day—a bit early in the morning, so he gave himself the benefit of doubt.

“Hello, Sakanoshita Convenience Store, how can I—”

“Ukai!”

“Whoops, got a customer coming in, talk to you later!” he said hurriedly, slamming down the phone. He glanced at the empty store and heaved another sigh, letting the idleness drown him.

…

“I know I said this already, but these kids could go places!” Sensei was walking hurriedly beside him, as the younger man tried to retreat into his store. “If only they—”

“I’m telling ya’, I ain’t doing it!” He willed the glass sliding doors closed, before flipping the ‘open’ sign and stomping off.

…

“Hic... Ukai-kun… Please teach them…” a very intoxicated Takeda slurred in his ear.

“For the love of—yer drunk off yer rocker but still goin’ on about it! I done had it! Be drunk in silence, why don’t ya!” he grouched as he carried the teacher home on his back. It was dark, and be damned if he was letting him go home alone in this sorry state. The Karasuno faculty was just as rowdy as his old man had told him.

Not that he wasn’t more than a little drunk as well, as he vaguely noticed himself slipping back into his old speech habits… So drunk, he very nearly said yes to give Takeda and himself peace of mind.

Almost, but not quite.

…

Ukai opened up the back door, expecting a delivery, but getting a face full of bowing Takeda instead, forehead all but bashing into the concrete.

“Please coach the club!”

“How in tar—on _earth_ did you get back here?! And no!” he demanded.

“Your dialect is very interesting, by the way.”

“Oh, shut it, sensei!”

…

His phone rang yet again. Before anyone could even say a word, he howled, “Ain’t no reason for anyone to call a convenience store anyway!” before hanging up and resting his head on the counter.

…

Takeda Ittetsu was a man of few talents.

He acknowledged it himself, readily even. He was an average man, working at an average school for an average income. He wasn’t particularly good looking, his hobbies were ‘boring’ at best, and he had no significant enemies nor others that would invest much time on him.

And such average-ness was why he, despite not knowing a thing about volleyball or sports in general, could recognize that these boys were as far from average as they could be.

He had always been good at ‘persuasion,’ but very rarely did he put that particular talent to work (he generally wasn’t very greedy)—yet, for these boys, he found himself going lengths he couldn’t recall ever going the entirety of his twenty-nine-year life. He begged for days on end for the practice match with Seijou. He did everything in his power to keep the gym open for the boys’ volleyball team. He worked to the bone to provide them with transportation and motivation and other things of the sort. He pulled all sorts of miracles through willpower and bowing alone (and strengthened his back muscles in the process).

And, he realized proudly as he stepped into the gym, for them, he damn well used his talent to pull another.

“Guys!” he shouted, and pairs of curious eyes turned to him. “Gather around, I have something to tell you!”

…

He was enjoying a very normal and peaceful day—a slow one, which he should be unhappy about since it was a business after all, but he felt so drained lately that he couldn’t help but welcome the quiet.

He noticed a stray wrapper on the floor behind the counter, and bent over to pick it up. His mother would raise hell if she saw—

“Ukai!” a voice suddenly yelled. His head abruptly knocked the underside of the table, and he let out a flurry of curses as he scrambled out from under there, wrapper left on the ground.

“S-Sensei! You scared the living crap out of me!” he said, half mortified and half glowering. He chilled out for a moment, rubbing at the back of his neck in anticipation of what was to come. “Look, I already—”

“I got a match with Nekoma for Golden Week!”

Ukai blinked once.

Then again.

And again.

…

“ARE YOU TRYING TO SEDUCE ME?!”

 

 

And so, his long, long journey came to an end.

…

 _“Hello!”_ the middle blocker signed, grinning at their new coach. _“I’m Hinata—thank you for coaching us!”_

The look the man gave the freshman was something akin to a smile and borderline confusion. “Uh… hello?”

“His name is Hinata, and we’re grateful you’re teaching us,” Kageyama said/translated, offering a low bow and pushing his friend to do the same. “He can’t speak or hear, but as long as he can see your face he’ll know what you’re saying.”

“Of all the blasted things he didn’t tell me,” Ukai muttered, smacking himself on the forehead. “I gotta tell you, this is my first time coaching a deaf and mute person. How are you guys handling it, uh…” He glanced at the dark-haired setter.

“Ah, my name is Kageyama,” he introduced politely. “Sugawara-san gave us hand signs to learn, so we use that on the court to get around without collisions. It worked for our last game.”

The man scratched at his head. “I don’t know a lick of sign, but as long as everyone can communicate with him I can’t really say I got a problem with it. You’ll translate what he needs to know when he’s not looking at me during practice, right?” Kageyama nodded, and Ukai clapped his hands. “Alright. That settles it! We’re doing a practice game!” All the members cheered, gathering around the alumni. His eyes glinted as he stared at the two freshmen. “Other than that one of you is deaf, I heard some pretty interesting things about you bunch… Show me what you brats are made of!”

Hinata saluted, while most everyone else moved excitedly and shouted, “Yes, coach!”

…

“You’re joking…” the coach whispered, watching in awe as a perfect toss sailed right into a closed-eyed and waiting Hinata, who had jumped so high one could almost think he was flying. A large ‘smack’ resounded, hitting the other side and landing them a solid point.

He was shaken out of his trance, seeing the redhead’s clumsy landing. “That chibi’s got some serious guts—can’t hear, can’t talk, and with his eyes closed like that he can’t see, yet he’s giving that setter his full faith and jumping.”

Takeda smiled, and nodded in agreement. “He’s amazing, isn’t he?” He watched in amusement as Kageyama berated Hinata for something or other, cheered with him, and pulled him up all in the same breath.

“Have they known each other long? That kind of thing doesn’t build up overnight,” he asked.

“Not at all. I heard they met once in middle school, but they started off pretty much hating each other’s guts. And that setter there—” He grinned as he pointed at Kageyama. “Gave the captain the most trouble; he didn’t know how to work with people at all. But all’s well that ends well.”

He snorted, both at their tales and Takeda’s concluding statement. “Ends well? As if. They’ve barely begun. They’re a bunch of jokers who are as rough around the edges as rough can be. They’ve got a lot of work to do if they’re aiming for the nationals.”

“I’m sure they’ll give it their all,” the advisor said sincerely, and Ukai gave a small smile of his own.

“I don’t doubt it. I’ll admit, they do have something going for them.” He couldn’t put it in words, but there was… _something_. Perhaps it was their spirit. Perhaps it was their diversity. Whatever it was, while they weren’t in perfect unity yet, he already got the feeling that they’d make an excellent team in the long run.

He choked as sensei smacked him on the back, laughing as he did. “Thanks for taking up the job, Ukai-kun! I’m forever grateful to you!”

“Aw geez, I don’t need that,” he grumbled, face slightly red but doing his best to hide it. “Just do me a favor and don’t drop by the shop for a while. I’ve seen enough of you for a lifetime.”

“…Say it in your dialect and I’ll do it?” He pulled out his phone, opened a recording app, and Ukai flipped.

_“Can it already!”_

…

“Alright, guys!” Sugawara said lightly, leading the Karasuno volleyball club into the cabin that they’d be sharing for a week (minus their manager, the little tidbit of info he had relayed quite savagely to a certain pair of second years).

Their favorite redhead immediately began exploring, tailed by a much quieter Kageyama, as ironic as it sounded. Hinata threw open door after door, eyes glittering and some noise of excitement escaping his mouth.

“Woah!”

“Uwah!”

“Wahh!”

Tsukishima glared at both him and Kageyama, the raven-haired setter glaring back, because he wasn’t even _doing_ anything. “What language is he speaking?” the blond asked rudely, eliciting some giggles from Yamaguchi.

“Fuck off,” he retorted. “It’s the same shit Noya-san says every day.”

“I’m not saying I _don’t_ have a problem with Noya-san.”

“Wow, fucking newsflash. Here I thought you had a problem with _everyone_.”

They were leering at each other, noses five inches apart at this point. Once again, Kageyama was made aware of how annoyingly _tall_ this asshole was.

“Fair enough,” Tsukishima told him, words rolling off his mouth like acid, as if even the very act of talking to him was revolting. “I’ve never gotten along with idiots who got excited over every little thing, and it seems as though all those people are gathered in one place.” He stepped back seemingly surveying him, and crowed, “Oh, what do you know! There’s one right here!”

His jaw went slack, and he growled, “You piece of—What do you want now?!” He stopped himself short and directed his attention to Hinata, who was waving frantically some distance off from the three of them.

 _“Look at the bathroom!”_ he signed. _“It’s really big!”_

“Of course it’s big, this isn’t a _house_ for Christ’s sake—oh fucking hell,” he muttered, stomping after him.

Tsukishima only sneered at their fading figures. “Shrimp’s got him wrapped around his finger.”

Yamaguchi laughed, responding with a light, “Seems that way, huh?”

…

“Alright, you freshmen brats!” Tanaka grinned, flashing a light in his face. Currently, he, the other second years, and all the first years were gathered into a circle, sitting in the darkness with the only light coming from the wing spiker’s device. “It’s _that_ time of year again!”

 _“Eh? Really? What?”_ Hinata asked excitedly, hands moving in a blurry. The second year nodded, smirking as he did, then flickered the light on and off for an effect.

“It’s time for… truth or dare!” he announced, and the declaration was immediately followed by groans.

“Oh, what? I thought you were going to say horror stories?” Ennoshita commented, seeming slightly pissed off at either thought.

“Nawh I got enough of that shit for one day.” He shuddered, recalling his very near encounter with the ‘ghost’ and Hinata. Even if the ghost ended up being Noya-san, the fright still left him a bit high strung. The mentioned libero must have sensed his thoughts, as he elbowed him in the gut roughly.

Tsukishima stood up. “I’m not taking part in your idiocy. I think I’ll sleep now, thank you very much.”

“Aw, it can’t be that bad!” Yamaguchi protested. “And we’re probably going to be really noisy, so you couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Gold eyes glared at him in the dark, and he grudgingly sat back down.

“There we go! It’s gotta be everyone—minus the third years because Suga’s dares are actually terrifying. But here we go!” Tanaka put a pencil on the ground and spun it, the point landing squarely towards the very same player who tried to leave just a second ago. “Tsukishima! Our favorite megane! Spin the pencil and see who you gotta make suffer. Make it a good one!”

He did, and it landed on Tanaka.

“O…kay? Dare it is then, I live my life dangerously.” He raised an eyebrow at him, and a slow smirk spread over the middle blocker’s face, morphing into a smile.

“Well then,” he said pleasantly, “Prank call the first girl in your contacts. Do try not to let them know it’s you.”

His jaw dropped. The only girls’ numbers he had was Kiyoko and his mother! “My name’s going to show up anyway, though!”

“Give me it,” the blond said, and he complied, clicking this and that before handing it back. “There. Now it’ll show up as unknown.”

Alphabetically his mother would have come before Kiyoko, but being the worshipper he was, he had her favorited at the very top of the list (despite the fact that he’d never called or even messaged her, since she made him swear not to the second he retrieved her number from the captain). Putting on the most decrepit voice he could manage, he spoke into the phone.

“Hello? Hello, sorry, I just typed a random number—I’m lost, so could you please help? Yeah, I’m at the intersection between…”

Hinata looked at the exchange in amusement, but he wasn’t full blown trying not to laugh like everyone else was. Senpai must have been doing something with his voice to make it funnier.

 _‘Mmmm… it’s hard to see…’_ he thought, taking the flashlight and shining it at Tanaka’s face, hoping to read his face that way.

“Yeah, it’s where—what the fuck Hinata?!” He blinked once, then twice, realizing that his voice had gone to normal. “Itwasadare!” he squeaked, just before the phone hung up, and he banged his head against the floor.

“Goddammit! She made me promise not to and everything! She’ll hate me for the rest of my life!” he wailed into the wood, Nishinoya tearing up as he rubbed his shoulder, Ennoshita looking on in mild done-ness.

“In other words, nothing will change,” Tsukishima intoned.

“Don’t worry man, I’ll love her enough for both of us!” Nishinoya reassured, earning bawls from the bald player.

The game continued, albeit tearfully on one teenager’s part, and they all got to see their fair share of dancing, singing, horrible pick-up lines (Noya was dared to try and ask out Tsukishima) and wild animal calls being shouted out the window. There were also a variety of questions, ranging from ‘what was the worst experience you ever had with relatives’ to ‘what was your most embarrassing password’ to everything else under the moon.

Then, it came Kageyama’s turn. He’d responded truth and been immediately asked what was his type, but all he answered was ‘I don’t know’ because he truthfully didn’t and couldn’t care less. The answer pulled outraged cries from the raging duo, since he had all these girls going for him and _didn’t even care_ , but all he did was shrug. He spun, and stared as it slowly stopped to point at Hinata.

The looked at each other, Hinata looking mildly terrified next to him. He only gave him that same bit-lemon expression and gestured what option he wanted.

 _“T-truth,”_ he signed. He didn’t trust Kageyama to make dares, but since he was a volleyball idiot like himself, his questions couldn’t be too bad, right?

The setter drummed his fingers for a moment, reflecting on all the questions he’d ever thought about asking Hinata but never did, and finally settling on one. He looked at him directly, and asked, “What’s your biggest fear?”

He didn’t expect much of a reaction (his questions were pretty tame compared to some of the other ones he’d heard, after all) but he got one. Hinata immediately tensed up, eyes glancing down to the floor and wide open. It wasn’t long until his small shoulders started shaking, though he was very obviously trying to control himself. He slowly brought his hands to his ears, covering them as though trying to protect himself from loud noises.

“H-hey, if it scares you that bad, you don’t have to say it,” Ennoshita assured him, but Hinata was so fixated on the floor that he didn’t notice.

He moved one hand from his ear, shakily. _“L…”_ he signed, but found his motions stuttering. _“Li…”_

Just as Kageyama was about to grab his hand to tell him no, it was fine, he didn’t have to say anything, because this distraught image of Hinata was doing _something_ weird and painful to his chest, the door slammed open, followed by a very cross Daichi and yawning Suga.

“You idiots! Do you have any idea what time it is!” he roared, and everyone leaped up. “We have training tomorrow! T-r-a-i-n-i-n-g!” he spelled out, glowering at everyone in the room.

“You’ll be tired if you all don’t sleep,” Sugawara said kindly, switching on the room light. “Nekoma’s formidable, so you need to be at your top game.” He glanced down at Hinata, cowering on the ground, and worry flashed across his face. “Hinata? Are you okay?”

Kageyama slowly knelt in front of him, tapping him on the forehead to get him to pay attention to his hands.

 _“We have to sleep now,”_ he signed, right under his face and within his line of sight. He paused, then added, _“You don’t have to tell me.”_

The gestures seemed to have gotten him somewhat out of his frozen state, as he gradually rose from the floor. The setter grasped him by the elbow, leading him to the futons they set up a few hours ago. He felt multiple stares bore on him, but was preoccupied with getting a decent reaction from Hinata to care much, and searched the vacant, brown eyes for some sign of anger, forgiveness, normalcy—anything at all.

Even up until those eyes closed, never to open again for the rest of the night, he couldn’t see a thing.

…

Hinata woke up the next morning to the glaringly bright sunlight, a few rays having settled on his face. Through closed eyes, he remembered the sounds of crashing, blinding light, roaring wind, his own screams—and he squeezed his eyes tighter in hopes of blocking it all.

“Ugh…” he said hoarsely, then rolled onto his side. He was very abruptly stopped by something warm and large and solid, and he cracked his eyes open to a sea of white. Dread and something else pooled in his stomach, as his eyes wandered up, up, up, to see tan skin, jutting collarbones, and a dark mass of hair, sight finally falling on the face of a certain setter he knew all too well.

A silent scream rumbled in his throat, and he flipped back to the other side so quickly even coach would have been impressed. It suddenly felt extremely hot, and he was sweating far too much for someone who’d yet to even get up from bed.

 _“Why is he so close?!”_ he thought in alarm, then vaguely became aware that something was pulling at his shirt.

He glanced a look back, seeing that Kageyama had the sleeve of his shirt pinched between his fingers, and blinked in surprise. Why was he…?

He then remembered the aftermath of the other night’s incident, something firm yet gentle holding onto his elbow and keeping him tethered to the present, if just barely. He guessed that his hand simply moved since then.

Realizing that it was still early and that Kageyama was very much asleep, he slowly turned back to face the setter, lying a mere few inches from the other boy’s chest. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it—only that he would probably never have a chance, and if he were caught, he’d probably be pummeled into the next life.

Even so… he looked at him—this person who he called ‘Kageyama,’ who walked him part of the way home every day and was the first face he saw at school. The Kageyama whom he made his first promise with in ink and played volleyball with numerous times under a sky full of stars. The Kageyama who he laughed with, fought with, tousled with, played with every day. The Kageyama whom he thought would never learn sign just for him, but before he knew it, he did.

He _really_ looked at him.

He’d never really noticed until now, as he was always looking at the brooding setter’s face, but lying down next to him now, he could see that he was _big_. Like, _really_ big. His shoulders and chest were broad, making him seem fuller in physique than the lanky Tsukishima, but still slender enough to not be called bulky as Asahi and captain were. His hands were big as well, yet his fingers were thin and graceful enough that he could easily imagine them doing something more intricate like playing the piano. He couldn’t believe that these hands tried to pummel him nearly every day.

Looking at Kageyama’s relaxed and sleeping countenance, it was hard to believe that this _face_ wanted to pummel him nearly every day.

Something in him stirred—something that made him more aware of his thudding heart, the heat on his face, the sweat in his hands… and most of all the very short distance that separated him from his setter.

Deciding that this was too weird, and enough was enough, he pulled Kageyama’s hand off of him as gently as he could, setting the limb beside his face before he rose to his feet. Being careful of the other bodies that lay around the floor, he slowly treaded out the room, silently opening the door and closing it after he stepped out.

And in such a manner, the first day of his Golden Week began.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I made it obvious enough what Hinata's phobia is. Obvious enough that even Tobio-chan can figure it out when the time comes :D (foreSHADOWING dundundun) ! Also, Ukai has a Kansai dialect for plot reasons. Next chapter is Nekoma encounter/game! Thank you for your support, and pls leave more writer's food (aka feedback) to feed my inspiration //smacked for being shameless// And as always, feel free to bounce ideas off me! If you'd like, you're welcome to scream with me about HQ boys on instagram at tanngerine_ or on Tumblr at chihanna..! (But do please beware of bad art before going to either AHAHA//) Thank you again and have a good day! <3


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